


Schisms

by al-the-remix (only_blue)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Space, Digital Art, M/M, Space Opera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:33:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24478759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_blue/pseuds/al-the-remix
Summary: Log 373-- "We had our first negotiations today, there remains friction between the parties."“How are you feeling?”Sid looked out his window, past the swirls of creeping frost blanketing the glass and obscuring the picture."Lost."
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 66
Kudos: 117
Collections: The 2020 Sid/Geno Exchange





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinetreelady](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinetreelady/gifts).



> Dear pinetreelady, what wonderful prompts! In the end, I took a piece from each one and worked them together. I had a lot of fun with this story and all the world-building involved. This isn’t a strict star trek au but I’ve recycled some of the lingo. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you to my beta who took even the most creative of spelling errors in stride.

Captain Sidney Crosby sat in his chair on the flight deck, streaks of starlight shooting past the bay of windows set into the navigation bridge. The Albatross and its crew closed in on their destination at hyper speed. A small group of lieutenants and ensigns had been carefully selected and assigned to the ship. Chief among them encircled the Captain as they sat at their stations. Their objective was one that was meant to require delicacy, not force. This was not a military operation; they were to mediate.

Sid tapped a sequence into his wrist Pad, the interface set into his wrist that allowed him to communicate with the ship’s systems.

“Control,” Sid called and waited for the nebulous cluster of lights to appear on the window bay, fluctuating as the CPU responded with a chime, an airy progression of notes before he spoke again.

“Hello, Rime,” Sid addressed the ship’s artificial intelligence by name. He smiled to himself when he got another jingle for that. “Can you brief us on the parameters of our mission, please. Broadcast ship-wide.”

_“Certainly,”_ came a cool voice, like water over rocks _. “Fleet Admiral Rutherford has tasked the Albatross and her crew with a diplomatic assignment, negotiating a treaty between the Bhosik and Irluth nations on Yoinov, the home planet of the Bhosik. Your objective is to officiate and delegate the peace treaty, and contingent on agreement, the marriage between Prince Evgeni Malkin of the Bhosik clan and the leader of the Irluth faction. A successful mission will secure the conclusion of a year-long state of war between the two parties. Captain Crosby, it is your duty to officiate the union and oversee the negotiation of any additional terms.”_

“Understood,” Sid said, drumming his fingers on the armrest of his chair. The system chimed again and the lights disappeared from the window bay, leaving only rivers of streaming stars. “Thank you, Rime.”

Sid cast his gaze around at the faces of his officers. Some he knew; most were foreign to him. He addressed the room: “Any questions?”

★

Yoinov was a small planet outside the Ulvuna star system. It was prone to cold weather and harsh winds for most of their year. Sid straightened out his regulation cold climate uniform, smoothing out the lines of the slate-grey quilted jacket and adjusting its high collar. He looked down at the cap in his hands, with its fur-lined ear flaps and visor, and back up at the mirror in his personal quarters. Sid had gotten his hair clipped tight to the sides of his head, neat and square, for the launching of the ship, her maiden voyage. Sid had cut the ribbon himself.

Making the right first impression was important. Sid had let things grow unkempt for too long. He left the cap on his desk and pulled on the black, fleece-lined gloves instead, flexing his hands inside the soft leather. Checking one last time that his Captain’s bars were square and his buckles neat, Sid walked out the automatic doors and made his way to the landing deck.

His band of lieutenants and ensigns waited for him all lined up in a row. Sid wasn’t one for speeches. He had never negotiated a marriage treaty before, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to tell them that they didn’t already know.

“Tanger, with me.”

Sid’s first commander met his pace, stopping to stand with him by the doors. He would be one of the few who would be accompanying Sid.

“All good?” Kris asked, just under his breath, and Sid gave him a curt nod, resisting the instinct to look back over his shoulder and check to see how close the officers behind him were standing.

“Let’s just try and make this go as smooth as possible,” Sid said, and Kris hummed in agreement.

“Ready?” Sid asked.

“After you,” Kris replied, and Sid tapped the panel on the inside of his wrist.

“Control, open the hatch, please.”

With a soft whir and a hiss from the pistons, the landing hatch lowered, letting in a wall of blinding white light and cool air. Sid’s eyes adjusted and he made his way down the ramp, taking in the unfamiliar landscape. Like all of Sid’s reading had suggested, the planet had a flat, unforgiving skyline and the characteristics of an arid climate. The air was crisp and cold, oxygen-rich and so clear Sid could easily make out what must be rocky landforms in the far distance. Sid stepped off the ramp and onto the sand.

Lined up to one side was the Bhosik greeting party. Sid turned to the first man in line who he recognized from his briefings: Sergei Gonchar, commander of the Bhosiks’ guard. He looked just like his photo: stoic features, a broad forehead, and hair the same colour as the sand that surrounded them. It struck Sid as a noble, very human face. The toll of the last year of conflict was present in the crow’s feet adorning each eye and the lines that stretched from his nose to the corners of his mouth.

“Commander,” Sid greeted formally, reaching out to grasp Gonchar’s forearm as was customary. Gonchar returned Sid’s gesture. He was dressed in the regimentals of the Bhosiks’ royal guard, a beige uniform with very little decoration besides the fur trim of the hood, necessary for buffering sand and snow, folded down now to rest against his shoulders.

“Captain Crosby, we’ve been awaiting your arrival.” Gonchar gestured to the line of guards behind him, similarly dressed and roughly the same number of men and women as Sid’s party. The key difference was their long, thin rifles that they walked with like staves through the dunes. The Galactic Alliance wasn’t a military operation, but an organization meant to aid in intergalactic diplomacy. Sid had his phaser strapped into its holster at his hip, but it was set to stun and would stay that way unless extraordinary circumstances demanded otherwise.

The other key difference was their mounts. Sid had never seen a tarsier before. Tilting his head back, he looked up at the beasts. They were tall with thick, light brown fur, the same muted muddy colour that seemed to paint everything else on this planet. They looked to Sid like some classification of primate, close to a lemur but not quite, with bat-like pink ears that swivelled to pick up every small sound, thin, nearly hairless tails, and large dome-like gold eyes that peered down at Sid unblinkingly. Their hands and feet had a human-like quality that Sid found unnerving.

Sid looked back at Gonchar, who gave him a placid smile. Sid noted that despite the veneer of mildness, Gonchar’s eyes were keen. With a last look back at his ship, Sid settled himself. The Albatross gleamed bone-white in the direct sun, sitting low to the ground like a smooth skipping stone, blending in with the flat, barren landscape.

It was quite the procession for such a short distance. Gonchar led them through the sandy turf on his mount while Sid and his crew trudged behind, slowed by the way their boots slid in the sand, refusing to find purchase. Yoinov was a planet of great resources and industry, but they lived simply. They were a fascinating and secretive culture; most of their wealth came from their main export, a rare kind of metallic substance. From what Sid had researched on their trip here, there were no records on how it was mined or extracted and no one had been able to reproduce it on a molecular level.

In the distance, earthy mounds broke up the flat landscape. The swells were domed buildings, built low to the ground, and could be easily mistaken for a cluster of small hills. When they got closer, Sid noticed patterns had been carved into their mud facades in relief, a practice that took great time and skill. Gonchar stopped them and dismounted in front of the tallest of the domed huts. It was the most ornately decorated and Sid mused it resembled the shape of a beehive.

Gonchar addressed their company. “It’s been a long time since we have had any visitors that were not antagonistic. Especially inside the quarters of the Chieftess. You’ve been invited in good faith and because of that I’m allowing your captain to bring two of his men with him, but that is all. The rest of you will be taken for a meal in the banquet hall, and we will join you later.”

Gonchar looked expectantly between Sid and his crewmen.

“Letang, Dumoulin,” Sid called to the front with an incline of his head, and they watched as the rest of their party was led off towards another building.

There were no doors to the huts, just high archways, and once Sid stepped through the entrance the floor dropped out almost immediately underneath him into a set of stairs. Gonchar disappeared down into the earth without hesitation and Sid followed his lead, descending into the subterranean network. The walls that encased them were circular, dug out and worked until nearly perfectly smooth. Once the stairs bottomed out, their party continued forwards. Axillary tunnels branched off in every direction, creating a grid of underground highways. It was a city living right beneath the surface.

As they moved deeper, winding their way through, the decoration of the main tunnel became more ornate, lit softly by glowing balls of gold light interspersed down the hall. Patterns similar to the geometric ones that decorated the outside of the buildings were carved into the walls in the same intricate relief. It was obvious to Sid that the hands who were responsible for them were ones of great study.

The end of the tunnel widened into an antechamber, the mouth of it blocked by two grand metal doors. Gonchar sent Sid a significant look and Sid nodded in response: they were ready. With a push that looked like it took great effort, Gonchar opened the doors, revealing a considerable chamber with smooth, domed walls and a high peak; a throne room.

Their footsteps seemed to echo on forever around them, trapped within the curved walls. They followed Gonchar’s path down the center of the room. To each side of the polished strip of brown floor were gardens of sand raked into dizzying patterns that Sid could get lost in if he stared long enough. As they approached the throne, set in the sand to either side were intriguing aurelian sculptures, like gold chrysalises about to burst with life. They were symmetrical in shape, uniform, yet each one was unique, like a fingerprint. They shone like gilt under the large balls of glowing light that floated in a cluster at the apex of the ceiling.

To Sid, who had been sequestered at armada base for a close to a year, the grandeur overwhelmed his senses as he tried to absorb all that he saw. Along the farthest wall was a throne, carved out the same stone as the wall and the floor. It was three thrones, in fact; they had an organic shape, moulded together into one and tiered at three levels. At the top was a long, low seat, wide enough for two people to sit comfortably on what looked to Sid like two large fur pelts. Chieftess Malkin sat there, and so did her husband, dressed in the dark fabric of nobility. It draped in thick folds and had a slight iridescent quality to it. Like their commander’s garb, the designs were simple with not a lot of flash. To their right sat the elder son, Denis, dressed in the same dark fabric. His tunic was straight-lined and clean with a high collar, thick-looking pants and brown boots. But on the left-- Sid found it difficult not to let his eyes drift and linger for longer than would be considered appropriate.

Seated at the lowest tier was who Sid could only assume was the younger son and the reason they were all gathered here in the first place. Sid couldn’t see his face because it was obstructed by his headdress, ornamented in gold and silver coins and beads of rich colours. All that was left to see were his dark eyes peering out from behind the veils, the deep red of his tunic and the way the coins glimmered under the warm glow of the floating lights.

Gonchar addressed the Chieftress and consort in their native tongue. Subtly, Sid curled the fingers of one hand around the wrist of the other and activated his translator. Gonchar’s words stuttered and fizzed for a moment before budding crisp and clear in his ears, and Sid listened in on Gonchar's introduction of them.

The clan mother turned her eyes on them. They were dark like her son’s and they reached back for years. “We are thankful you are here,” she said, and Sid waited for Gonchar to translate before speaking.

“Our reception has been warm and welcoming. We hope that we can aid in this union so that both parties leave satisfied.

“Also, Lieutenant Dumoulin here is our translator,” Sid explained. “He’s familiar with your language, and I hope that having him here isn’t taken as a show of distrust but rather just part of our protocol, though I’m sure Commander Gonchar is adept.”

Sid waited a beat as Gonchar translated the message and all eyes turned to Dumoulin. He gave a brief greeting and Sid watched with a small twist of pride as looks of surprise coloured the faces in the room. Brian had been working hard to perfect that.

Gonchar translated the reply: “We understand, of course. Our sons are familiar with your language.”

Denis took that opportunity to speak up. “My parents are still uneasy, but this union is sound and we don’t have the resources to withstand an invasion. They want a dowry and assurance of future trade through marriage. We’re hoping that they will colonize a neighbouring planet. I know that it is Galactic Alliance law that we give them sanctuary but we just don’t have the resources to support another civilization.”

He’s still young, Sid thought. “Our job here is to mediate, not advise,” Sid explained. “We can help smooth things over but the conclusion you come to must be your own.”

A voice spoke up from the corner. Sid faced it. There was another guard, though this one was dressed in dark regimentals. Captain Fedorov, Sid realized.

“The Irluths seem to have military power that we do not. If this is true, they could be a valuable ally.” He spoke with conviction and Sid had a feeling this was where a lot of Denis’ opinions were coming from.

Sid kept his expression neutral. “Like I said, it’s not my place.”

The Chiftress cleared her throat and all heads turned back towards her. “Thank you for your aid nonetheless.” She said and Gonchar translated. With that final word, they were dismissed.

With a curt bow, Gonchar led them out of the throne room and through another series of complex tunnels. It must be a lot like living inside a termite mound, Sid thought as he tried to map the twists and turns in his head, but it was almost impossible. _Almost--_

The banquet hall was a room with low curved walls and ceilings, all washed white. Circular tables sat low to the ground. There were a few small, peripheral tables that sat Sid’s crewmen and the Bhosik guards, eating together. The three of them were led past those to the large, main table at the center of the room. Kris and Brian sat on either side of Sid. The table was big enough that there was no way converse with the people sitting on the other side. This was probably done on purpose, Sid thought as the royal family entered the room through a separate doorway and were seated across from them.

“What do you think?” Brian asked, quietly.

“I think that poor sucker is getting martyred against his will,” Kris said, and Sid shot him an unimpressed look.

_“Tanger--”_ Sid warned, and tried to be subdued when he checked if anyone sitting close heard that exchange. Sid had read that the Bhosiks had excellent hearing, but like everything else on them, the references were few and far between.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Diplomacy and all, but you know I’m right,” Kris muttered.

Sid was hesitant to agree out loud but he had to admit, Kris did have a point. “We’ll talk about it later,” he compromised.

Sid looked across the table at Evgeni, in all his garb and drapery, tucking bits of food under his veils. The coins that decorated them would be his dowry. Denis was going to succeed the throne and Evgeni would be married off. All because of a few years’ difference in age.

Yes, it couldn’t be easy, but it wasn’t Sid’s job to empathize. “We’re here to make sure each side leaves satisfied, that’s all.”

Kris shot him a sad look and Sid looked down at his food, scraping the mixture of beans and some unknown meat up with his piece of flatbread. It was hearty and filling.

They slept in their ship that night. Gonchar led them back on his mount under the stars. Balls of light strung up in netting hung from their saddles, illuminating their path. The tracks they had left in the sand that morning were long gone now. Sid gazed across the dark horizon. The Albatross was almost invisible in the darkness, lying low against the sand and cloaked in the navy blue of night.

Sid lay in his quarters that night, taking the white sensor pads that lay beside his bed and sticking them to his temples. He could feel the low hum of Rime buffering as it synched with his mind.

When it rang its telltale chime, Sid began to dictate:

_Log 371-- “We have made contact with the host party, they seem amicable to the treaty and the peace it will bring. From what I can tell, Prince Evgeni understands the conditions surrounding his betrothal, as they are. The Chieftess is hesitant while her son Denis and the Captain of his guard Fedorov seem favourable to the alliance.”_

_“How are you feeling?”_ the soft voice inquired _._

_“Confident.”_

★

A fresh layer of snow swept in with the night, cloaking the sand and crunching beneath the heels of Sid’s boots. The air was cold enough to bite and heavy with fog, so thick Sid imagined he could stir it with a spoon. A contrast to the clear air they had experienced the day before.

The Irluths’ craft was impossible to miss, an imposing streak in the sky. The burnt red colour of it was harsh and it hung in the air as if it was sitting on a bed of fog. It seemed to pulse with heat, stark against the pale blue sky. Sid shielded his eyes against the glare of the twin suns. They were escorted to the ship by the Bhosiks’ guards. It was a long trek out and Sid and his crew rode their hoverbikes. The black metal hummed under Sid’s hands, happy to be used again after their stowaway. Sid kept pace with Gonchar and his tarsier, bounding through the sand easily with its loping gait. Riding alongside him was a guard Sid hadn’t met in Gonchar’s company yesterday. He was young, maybe the youngest one there and he and Commander seemed to have a lot to discuss.

They parked under the ship. Sid craned his neck back, trying to make out any detail. His eyes were sharp and he could pick out the guts of the ship, industrial in design and worming along its underbelly. It was long and narrow, as if someone had cut a line in the atmosphere and space was leaking through. Every once in a while there would be the bright flash of the thrusters, keeping the craft hovering and stationary. Sid watched as a long black spire drifted down like the extending neck of a telescope. When it touched the sand, the doors slid open, soundless and waiting like a gaping maw. The Bhosik guards that had escorted them stayed on the ground. Sid had picked two of his officers besides Kris and Brian to accompany them.

The inside of the lift was a tight squeeze, just barely enough room for the five of them. The whole contraption vibrated and shook as it lifted off the ground and ascended towards the craft.

Kris braced one hand against the wall. “I don’t like this,” he said, and the light around them flickered. Sid couldn’t even tell where it was coming from.

“It’ll be okay,” Brian reassured. Sid gave him a smile for his consideration but Kris was looking waxy and almost green in the cold light.

Even Sid was feeling uneasy as time seemed to stretch, and the officer beside him was shifting from foot to foot. He shook it off. The lift gave another violent rattle as it docked. Sid had his phaser holstered and set to stun as was regulation. It didn’t make him feel any better. If the Bhosik were secretive, the Irluth were basically arcane. Even with all of his research and preparation for this mission, Sid wasn’t totally sure when they were walking into. He had no idea what would be waiting for them on the other side of the heavy metal doors.

The doors slid open with a mechanical hiss and Sid was introduced to another tunnel, though this one was very different from the last. No warm glow lived here. There were no signs of art or creativity. An alienness possessed the architecture in a way that exceeded what Sid had been introduced to on Yoinov. Nothing felt familiar.

_“Come,”_ echoed a voice.

Sid looked around but he couldn’t identify where it had emanated from.

“Creepy...” said Kris.

“Shh,” Sid hushed. It was still their job to remain neutral. “Let’s keep moving.”

It felt like they were being drawn into a spider’s lair. The atmosphere became thicker the deeper they went, giving the air a blue, murky haze. When they reached the end of the tunnel, it opened up into a flat, circular room with a low ceiling. Sid felt the need to duck his head as they moved deeper in. Formless shapes lurked in the shadows, but nothing stood out for Sid to identify.

Five bodies hung in the air, facing Sid and his crew. They were beings unlike anything Sid had ever experienced before. Close to twice his height and imposing, Sid couldn’t understand their form in a logical sense; clearly they were biological of some kind, and their skin was flesh-like and a dark pinkish colour. Their silhouettes were hard to distinguish, heads domed and skull-like, just skin stretched over bone without much meat underneath and blending in with their torsos without much neck in between. Their torsos and anything else there might be to see were obstructed by the many arms that hung off their bodies like ribbons.

Set into their faces were three eyes but Sid couldn’t see a mouth. Two smaller arms hovered out in front of their bodies, delicate, with thin hands. Sid realized that the haze was coming from some kind of burning incense, a thick perfumy smell that gave Sid a headache.

At the center of the room, the Irluths hovered in a semi-circle around a black orb that was set into the floor. It spun slowly, crackling and vibrating as they spoke.

_“You spoke to our opposition before you made any attempts to speak with us.”_ Their voices came in layers, speaking as one entity, slowly and without inflection.

“They are our hosts,” Sid explained, evenly, mimicking the pace and flatness of the Irluths’ speech. “It’s only customary. I’m sure you would do the same in my position.”

A great collective hum filled the room, and Sid felt a trickle of sweat drip down his back. “ _Maybe,”_ came the low voices, working against each other like grinding gears.

_“The Bhosik boy will be joined--mated as they say--to the Faction.”_

Sid shifted in place. “To clarify, he will be espoused to all of you?”

_“Yes.”_ The answer resonated throughout the room.

Sid clasped his hands behind his back. “The Bhosiks are a monogamous culture. This may not settle easily for him. There might be pushback.”

_“This is not our concern,”_ the Irluths replied _. “Our planet is no longer habitable and due to your laws we may seek refuge on a neighbouring planet. They have denied us this courtesy for a year now. All we ask is for a small price. Our ship is old, and if we are not granted shelter and are to survive on it until we find a habitable planet, it will need repairing. The union is an act of good faith on continued trade._

_“Is that so much to ask?”_

Sid gave a tight smile. “Perfectly reasonable.”

Sid’s mind spun as they made their way briskly back down the hallway towards the lift. He could feel his hair stand on end the entire walk down the long dark hall.

“So?” Kris prompted when the doors locked them inside the chamber for the spire and began to lower them back down to the ground.

“Let’s wait to speak about this,” he said. Sid had never been so happy to feel the sinking of the sand beneath his feet. He could have kissed the earth.

Sid and his crew broke away from the Bhosik guard and headed back towards the ship. He had made sure to thank Gonchar for escorting them. Sid still wasn’t sure the escort had been entirely necessary, but saying no hadn’t been worth the possibility of ruffling feathers. Sid thought about the young guard who had hovered behind Gonchar and watched them talk intently. Everyone was anxious for answers, it seemed.

Sid sat to one end of a long narrow table in the ship’s mess hall. Kris sat across from him, looking intent. “Well?”

Sid sucked some soup off his thumb. “It could be bad,” he admitted. “But hopefully not a deal-breaker. Unfortunately, getting information out of the Irluths is as painful as pulling teeth.” Sid sighed and put down his spoon. He wasn’t even that hungry; he never felt all that hungry these days. “It would have been nice to be clearer on the details beforehand.”

Kris nodded and Brian spoke up beside him. “I’ve been having a similar issue, I’ve been trying to pull extra files from Control but either something won’t let me or we have very little information on this species.”

Sid’s brows furrowed. “How little?”

“Shit all.” Brian pulled out his Pad. “I haven’t been able to find anything more in our archives than was given to us in the preliminary reports. I can call the base and try and gain access to any other information but at this point, I don’t even know if we have it.”

Sid sighed and carded a hand through his hair, breaking up the gel. “Keep working on that. I’m meeting with Gonchar tomorrow. He’s not allowed to know any of these details before the official negotiation but it will be informative to see more of the Bhosiks’ city. It would be nice not to be completely in the dark of both sides of this.”

“I’m just going to say what Tanger said: poor sucker.”

Sid looked at Brian who raised his eyebrows at him, daring Sid to disagree. Sid just sighed again. “Yeah, poor sucker.” Brian gave him a slap on the shoulder and Sid rubbed at his eyes until he saw stars. He needed to start getting better sleep.

“Head hurt?” Kris asked. He had been silent for a while and when Sid met his eyes they were serious.

“I’m fine,” Sid said.

“I’ve heard that before,” Kris said with a shake of his head and Sid kicked him under the table.

“Hey! I think that’s harassment, _Captain._ ” Kris squawked but he grinned at Sid from ear to ear. Sid found Kris often did that when Sid acted out of line in some way he approved of and Kris almost exclusively approved of things Sid did that were out of line.

“It isn’t if nobody saw,” Sid countered, and grinned.

★

Sid met Gonchar outside the central hut at suns-rise. A sandstorm had rearranged the dunes during the night, and the subtle shift in landscape left him with a lingering sense of disquiet. Gonchar gave Sid a once-over with a critical eye and turned towards the hut. “Come on, we have to get you dressed.”

Sid followed him down the tunnel and into the earth. He looked down at his uniform, clean and neatly kept. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“Too dark,” Gonchar explained, barely. “You’ll stick out like a bruised thumb.”

Sid huffed but didn’t press further. Gonchar led him away from the main tunnel they had taken last time, through a narrower, plain hallway. It opened up into a room that looked to Sid like it was used for barracks but no one was there. Gonchar directed him into a small storage room attached to it. There were shelves dug out into the walls, housing spare uniforms, all of them the same muted sandy colour. Gonchar pulled out a set of standards and passed them to Sid. “Get changed, I’ll be waiting for you outside,” he said and left the room.

Like every other room except for the throne room, it didn’t have any doors. Sid shrugged and started unbuttoning his jacket, folding his uniform up neatly and placing it in the free space on the shelves. The pants were made of a sturdy canvas-like fabric with a fleece lining. Sid tried to fit his phaser holster over the thick fabric, but he had to re-adjust the strap around his thigh before securing the waist belt. Preoccupied by fiddling with the buckle, Sid almost missed the soft shuffle of feet. When he looked up, it wasn’t Gonchar telling him to hurry up like he’d expected. One of the Bhosik guards was standing in the doorway. Sid recognized him from the group that had accompanied them to the Irluths’ aircraft, the one who had talked to Gonchar the whole ride there. He was young, like Sid had thought. His hair curled around the red tips of his ears like dried leaves. He didn’t move to enter the room, just gave Sid a slow, assessing sweep of his eyes.

“Gonchar’s not here,” Sid said, which was obvious, but he didn’t even know if this guard could understand him. Sid reached for the uniform long-sleeve and pulled it over his head and chest, hooking his thumbs through the holes in the bottom of the sleeves. Sid examined them; those were interesting.

Sid looked back up. The guard was still just watching him, and after a moment he readjusted the rifle hanging over his shoulder and left without a word. Sid didn’t think too hard about it. He pulled on the uniform jacket; the fit was looser than he was accustomed to, and the outer shell of the jacket was almost like a poncho. Leaving it unbuttoned, he went to go find Gonchar.

Sid still wasn’t entirely sure what today’s plans were supposed to entail, but he was pleasantly surprised when Gonchar took him deep through the underground system. The tunnels grew steadily in circumference until they were brought to the mouth of a cavern, large enough Sid couldn’t make out the far edges or the ceiling, and filled to the brim with people.

There were buildings scattered here and there but mostly the city center was made up of a network of tables like a bazaar. A whole world thriving underground.

Despite his change of clothes, Sid felt the weight of big eyes watching him everywhere they went. When he looked over his shoulder, Sid didn’t catch anyone staring outright, but he could feel it on the back of his neck as they wove between stalls. Some of the Bhosiks were carrying around young tarsiers on their backs, their whip-like tails fresh pink and wrapped around their companions’ waists and clinging to the fabric of their clothes. Gonchar talked as he walked and Sid tried to keep up while soaking up his new surroundings like a sponge.

“Our economy is mostly built on trade,” Gonchar explained. “We’re an industrious and creative culture. We have to be, to survive such a harsh climate. We use the fresh water in the caves to irrigate and practice dryland farming.” Gonchar puffed out his chest and gestured to a woman behind a booth, who looked to be organizing different grains.

Sid nodded, taking in the scope and scale of it all. “This is very impressive.”

“This is our most valuable export,” Gonchar continued. He brought Sid over to a building tucked into a corner. There was a man working a machine outside; Gonchar nodded at him and he nodded back. Sid could feel the heat coming off the machine press against his cheeks and heard the whine of metal. As they got closer, Sid saw that one end of the machine was spitting out small metal pellets like rice into a container. Gonchar ran his fingers through it. “This metal can be used to make a lot of valuable things, ships, infrastructure, weapons.” He looked Sid straight in the eye. “It is very strong, almost indestructible. We are selective with who we trade with, only a small amount is produced every year. It is worth its high price.”

Sid walked over and investigated the other side of the machine where the man was feeding it. Bits of metallic-looking shell sat on the table, thin and curved. Sid took a piece in his hand; it was weighty for its size. He couldn’t make out what form it would take if all the pieces were glued back together. Something large for sure. “Is it an ore buried deep in the sand?” Sid wondered aloud, turning it over in his palm. The metal was an interesting marble of silver and gold colouration. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Gonchar didn’t answer his question and Sid hadn’t really been expecting him to. He set the piece back down on the table.

“Let’s keep moving, we’re supposed to be meeting someone,” Gonchar said, and turned back towards the mouth of the tunnel set into the cavern wall. “Though he’s always late,” he muttered under his breath.

They didn’t have as far to walk this time. They passed a doorway Sid thought he recognized as leading to the barracks, but everything looked the same to him. “These are the stables,” Gonchar explained as they stepped into a wide long room. It didn’t look like any stables Sid had ever seen. There were no stalls, just what looked to Sid like nests of some sort, made out of dried bedding, hay, and lint. Two of the nests were occupied; one of the tarsiers was asleep and the other watched Sid closely.

“Stay right here, don’t touch anything. I’ll be right back,” Gonchar said and left the room.

Sid looked around. There were narrow rectangular windows carved out near the ceiling; Sid could just barely peer through them. It was nice to feel the fresh air on his face again. Sid wasn’t used to spending this much time underground.

The tarsier was still watching him when he turned back around. Sid walked over to it cautiously. It blinked at him but beside that, didn’t move. Gonchar had said not to touch any _thing_ , but these weren’t things, they were beings. Gently, Sid combed his fingers through the thick fur on the cheek of the tarsier’s massive head. It blinked again, slowly, and Sid scratched a little deeper. He swore he could make out a sheen to its fur, like its dusty brown colour was flecked with gold.

“You’re an odd creature,” Sid said.

“She thinks you’re funny too,” came a voice from behind him.

Sid was proud of himself for not jumping. He turned around and standing just there was the same guard from earlier. This time he had two rifles, one slung over each of his shoulders, and he stood with a cocky lean. He was around Sid’s age, Sid decided then. Sid hadn’t even heard him walk up. He regarded Sid with a shrewd eye and they stood at a silent standoff until Gonchar strode back into the room with two saddles held on his hips.

He barely gave the guard a glance. “This is my Lieutenant, Zhenya, he’ll be accompanying us. Don’t listen to anything he says, he’s been in a bad mood.”

Zhenya bit something off at Gonchar that was too quick for Sid to catch. Gonchar ignored him, looking at Sid. “And he’s late, like I said,” he added and Sid laughed.

Reluctantly, Zhenya showed Sid how to saddle one of the tarsiers. He did it with very few words. It wasn’t really a saddle, more of a harness with handholds and rings on the side where Zhenya could fasten two rolled-up nets.

Once everything was secure, Zhenya fit the tip of his boot into one of the toe-holds and swung himself up onto the tarsier’s back gracefully. “Here,” he said and extended an arm down to Sid, looking expectant.

“Oh,” Sid said, and looked over to where Gonchar was doing the same thing. Zhenya batted his hand at Sid impatiently and Sid guessed he didn’t really have any other choice. He gripped Zhenya’s hand and copied his movement, stepping onto where the creature’s back leg was curled and swinging himself over.

There wasn’t really anything for Sid to grab hold of and the tarsier’s fur was slippery. Zhenya reached back and detached Sid’s hands from where they gripped his jacket, instead wrapping his arms around his waist and securing Sid’s hands over the handles on the harness. “There,” he said, and patted Sid’s knee.

Like this, Sid was just tall enough to see over his shoulder, as if it couldn’t get any more embarrassing. He shouldn’t have thought that so soon, because when the tarsiers started to move, navigating their way out through the tunnels, Zhenya ducked down and Sid followed him, plastering himself along Zhenya’s back so he wouldn’t his head on the ceiling when the tunnel started to incline sharply.

They broke out of the tunnel and into the clear air. The sun was bright, bearing down on them. Sid held on tightly with his legs and the body of the tarsier underneath them twitched and hopped around a bit, ready to run. Sid had never ridden any animal before, horse or otherwise, and he was unaccustomed to the feel of something alive underneath him, something with a will. It was a different beast than Sid’s hoverbike, whose heart was an engine made of warped metal. But here, Sid could feel the living pulse of the tarsier between his legs. It wasn’t even wearing a bridle, it could go wherever it wanted. It didn’t have to ask permission--it was an alluring concept.

“Relax, don’t tense,” Zhenya said, cutting through Sid’s thoughts. He peered at Sid over his shoulder, one piercing eye watching him, sloped and inquisitive, his chestnut hair whipping around his face with the wind. “You make her nervous.”

“Sorry,” Sid said, loosening his grip and letting his muscles go lax.

“Ready?” Gonchar asked, watching them with an amused expression on his face.

They rode out across the flat plain of sand and cracked earth towards the formations in the distance. The loping gait of the tarsiers was smoother than Sid had been expecting, and it was surprisingly comfortable to hold onto the handles on the harness and rest himself against Zhenya’s back. As they got nearer to the formations, Sid could see they were not quite what he expected. He didn’t really know _what_ he had been expecting, but nothing this fantastical.

They made their way through the valleys. All around them were arches, canyons, and pinnacles of soft sandstone reached up towards the sky, like they had been carved out by the wind, or maybe by glaciers a long time ago. They were all coated in a dusting of snow with dunes of sand collected around their base. They stopped at the base of one rock formation that looked like a column of flat bubbles floating toward the surface, frozen in time.

“Hold on tight,” Gonchar called to them, and then his tarsier began to climb up the side of the formation, its long, thin fingers fitting perfectly into the grooves in the stone.

“Holy shit,” Sid whispered, and their tarsier followed the other’s lead, climbing vertically upwards. Sid gripped onto the harness and Zhenya for dear life, all embarrassment forgotten, and he felt the vibration through Zhenya’s chest when he laughed at him. Well, maybe not all embarrassment.

Near the top, the tarsiers crawled into a dugout in the stone, crouching low. They dismounted and the tarsiers went to curl up together against the back wall. Sid took in his surroundings. It was a tight squeeze. Zhenya was already lying stomach down right behind the opening. He rested the tip of his rifle against the lip and started fiddling with it. Sid lay down beside him, staring out across the valleys. They were very high up. Gonchar knelt beside them.

“This planet has two drawbacks, the weather and the yalakhs,” Gonchar explained. “They’re like--what do you call them? Locusts? Like that but monstrous.”

“They eat everything, so we eat them,” Zhenya muttered and cocked his rifle.

His piece said, Zhenya wasn’t paying either of them any attention so Sid turned back to Gonchar. “He’s not wrong, though put bluntly,” Gonchar said. “They’re our main source of protein, it’s hard to keep livestock here, underground.”

“Here they come,” Zhenya cut in. Sid observed the way his ears pricked and twitched. Sid hadn’t noticed the thin, delicate skin of them before. They had an elegant curve to them and were covered in fine short hairs like peach fuzz. He must have phenomenal hearing, because Sid couldn’t make out anything over the hum of the wind.

Gonchar got himself situated beside Sid, both of them tense where they bracketed him. Sid strained his ears as time seemed to stretch on. He could feel the rapid beat of his heart in his chest as slowly but surely a buzz grew and filled the dugout, vibrating everything around them. Zhenya and Gonchar lowered their heads to the sights of their rifles as all of a sudden the sound reached its peak and the light was cut out by a wall of darkness. Sid ducked his head. The cloud of bodies whipped past their blind. Zhenya shot, reloaded, and shot again. The rifles were almost silent and Sid saw the shadows of a few bodies dropping from the swarm.

“Here, you try.” Gonchar slid his rifle across to Sid. Sid was familiar with most standard weaponry, and this wasn’t very difficult to figure out. He missed his first shot but landed his second and the two after that. “Good,” Gonchar said beside him. “That’s enough. Zhenya, how many?”

“Enough,” he agreed and sat back, putting the safety on and sitting against the wall. Sid and Gonchar did the same thing. They waited as slowly the light filtered back into their hole and the sound of buzzing disappeared completely. Sid rubbed at his ears; the sound had made it feel like cotton balls had been stuffed inside them.

The tarsiers brought them back down to the floor of the canyon. Sid helped Gonchar and Zhenya drag the yalakhs’ bodies over to their mounts. They did look like locusts, but bigger and meaner. Monstrous.

“They really can eat you guys, huh?”

“Yes,” Gonchar said, dropping the last of them into the sand. Zhenya had already started lifting the bodies into the nets on either side of the tarsiers’ harnesses and securing them.

“So few for so many people?” Sid asked, wondering aloud.

“We just take what we need, that’s all,” Zhenya said, stuffing a leg into one of the nets. “We are not greedy, we don’t ask for much. We share with each other and we only ask for what’s rightfully ours--” Zhenya bit off with a curse in his native tongue.

“I never said you didn’t--” Sid started, caught by surprise at the outburst.

“You don’t care,” Zhenya turned on him and snapped accusingly as if he knew. As if he had _any idea._ Sid bristled.

“Zhenya,” Gonchar warned.

“No, it’s alright,” Sid assured, focusing on calming himself. “It’s difficult. I sympathize, it’s just-- that isn’t my job here, it’s not my prerogative.”

Zhenya’s hands were balled into fists as he stared Sid down, his eyes big and watery. Sid noticed the slight twitch of his ears and wondered if Zhenya was trying to listen for his heartbeat to see if he was lying. Sid took another calming breath.

With nothing else to say, Zhenya turned away and stomped back over to the pile.

“Don’t worry about him,” Gonchar said. “I hoped shooting something would make him feel better but--” He shrugged like, “ _What are you going to do?”_

“Is he your son?” Sid inquired. The two didn’t look very similar but that didn’t always mean much of anything.

“No, just a friend in a bad place,” Gonchar said, and sighed like this was something he had to explain regularly.

They watched in companionable silence as Zhenya walked over to a yalakh lying in the sand and with two hands ripped one of its massive wings off with a grunt. Sid winced and caught the crook of Gonchar’s mouth out of the corner of his eye. Zhenya dragged it over and fed it to the tarsier, who scarfed it down as if it had been starving.

"Charming," Sid clucked, and Gonchar laughed with him.

“Indeed.”

★

Sid’s entire body ached as he trudged through the halls of his ship. He was sure he was leaking sand all over the floor. He stopped in the lounge to down a glass of water, his throat caked in dust.

“What are you wearing?”

Sid looked over. Kris was sitting at one of the tables by the window, his Pad out in front of him.

Sid looked down at himself. He had forgotten about his uniform. He swore under his breath. “Don’t ask.”

“Mingling with the locals I see.” Kris tsked. “The Admiralty wouldn’t be pleased.”

“Good thing no one’s going to tell them,” Sid said, trying in vain to dust himself off. It didn’t help much.

Kris held his hands up in surrender. “They won’t be hearing it from me.”

“Thanks,” Sid said and grimaced as he shifted. “I need to go take a shower, I’m pretty sure there’s sand all the way inside my asshole.”

“Don’t have too much fun in there,” Kris called after him as Sid left the lounge, and Sid waved him off.

Incidentally, there was sand all the way inside his asshole.

Later, Sid lay in bed and stared into the darkness, too wound up to sleep. He wanted to process the day alone, without Rime. Something was bothering him. There was a general feeling of unrest inside the ship; Sid could feel it brushing against his skin, moving through the craft like it was boring though his flesh. Sid sat up and looked at the door to his quarters. There was something there, just on the other side of the bulkhead. He knew it to be true. The door slid open silently, unveiling the silhouette, like a dark ghost in the doorway.

_“Crosby.”_

Sid reached over and flicked on his light.

It was Zhenya standing in his doorway. He stepped into the room and the door slid shut behind him. Sid braced himself, muscles tense and ready to make a grab for his phaser.

“I need your help.”

That made Sid pause, relaxing a bit, if only for a moment. The light from beside Sid’s bed cast Zhenya’s face in harsh shadows. He looked older than he had throughout the day.

Sid had two questions: “What are you doing here? How did you get on my ship?”

Zhenya shifted, relaxing a bit, too, for the time being. He gestured to himself. “You left your uniform, that made it easy. Also, I’m good with machines.” He said it with a smug tilt to his lips and Sid just barely suppressed a groan and swung his legs out of bed so he was sitting facing Zhenya.

“You can’t be here, it’s against pretty much every rule,” Sid explained. “It’s interactions like this that could give one party grounds to barter for a better deal or even break the treaty altogether.”

Zhenya stepped forward, hesitating when Sid sat up straighter. “Yes, that’s why I’m here. The treaty is bad, not good. The Irluths, I don’t trust them.” He slashed his hand through the air. “They show up, want what's ours, no proper explanation. Just fight.”

Sid sighed. There was always one person who opposed diplomacy. Sid just wanted to go back to sleep. “I understand, but unfortunately it’s not your decision to make. The royal council have decided this is the best course of action and everyone is in agreement, the prince--”

“The prince _not_ agree--” Zhenya snapped, cutting him off

“How do you know?” Sid asked. That was something if it was true, but still, “Unless evidence of serious threat--”

“My name is Evgeni,” Zhenya said, placing his hand against his chest.

Sid blinked at him. “You know there’s no way for me to believe that unless you have proof.”

Zhenya cursed under his breath and started undoing the fastenings to Sid’s jacket, which was too broad for him and short around his wrists. He dropped it unceremoniously to the floor and Sid frowned at it crumpled on the ground. When Sid looked up, Zhenya had turned his back to him, hiking up Sid’s stolen undershirt to reveal the pale skin of his back.

“You know what this is?” Zhenya asked him.

Sid did know what that was. “Jesus Christ--”

Finely detailed on Zhenya’s back was a series of geometric shapes in dark ink, like the ones that had been carved all over the halls and the inside of the royal chamber. It was the tattoo that marked someone of nobility, their status clearly defined in the interwoven lines.

Zhenya pulled his shirt back down, turning around. “Sidney--”

“You have to leave,” Sid said. “You can’t be here. If anyone found out about this--”

“You have to help me, you _have to help_ \--” There was a vulnerability to his face, no, a desperation as he pleaded his case. He sat beside Sid on the mattress and Sid put some space between them. “It’s not just about me, it’s the planet, my people.”

“If you have doubts or concerns, you should bring them up during the negotiation tomorrow.”

Zhenya laughed bitterly. “Negotiation is bullshit, just talk, no meaning.” He gave Sid a long, assessing look. “If you help I’ll let you fuck me,” he said and reached over and _ran his hand up Sid’s thigh--_

“ _Whoa,_ buddy,” Sid squawked, scrabbling back and flattening himself against the wall. “That is totally _inappropriate._ ”

Zhenya rolled his eyes long-sufferingly, like Sid was really putting a foil in his plan. “So what? You’re a virgin?” Zhenya challenged.

“I’m not a _virgin_ , Christ.” Sid’s fingers tangled in the sheets. When Zhenya didn’t move back, he pushed away from the bed and paced around the room. “I’m not going to have sex with you,” Sid told the room, and Zhenya, and himself. “As if the rest of this isn’t bad enough.”

“So you’re just frightened, scared, like a small, baby animal. Too afraid to crawl out of ship, like a cocoon.” Zhenya was far past pleading now, his face wiped clean with that same determinedness Sid had experienced earlier.

“I’m not--I’m doing my _job._ ”

“Doing it _bad--_ ” Zhenya bit out.

“Take off my uniform.” Sid ordered.

“Fine.” Zhenya’s hands dropped to his belt, undoing the buckle, then the zipper. Sid’s eye’s followed them. “Sure you don’t want?” Zhenya smirked at him.

“Here, wear this.” Sid grabbed the sandy uniform from earlier and chucked it at him, feeling a glimmer of satisfaction when Zhenya fumbled with it.

Sid stood to the side and stared down at his bare toes and listened to the rustling of Zhenya changing. He escorted him down the hall, through the ship to the landing hatch, and used the manual lever to open it. Zhenya stood in the sand at the end of the ramp, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared Sid down.

“Good night,” Sid said, and closed the ship back up soundly in his face.

If he had had a hard time getting to sleep before, it was almost impossible now. Sid rubbed at his temples. The first day of negotiations would begin tomorrow. Every time he rolled over Sid was accosted with another image of Zhenya’s face, pleading with him. Sid sat up in bed.

For the second time that night he paced down the empty halls. There would be some night crewmen on the navigation deck, but for the most part the ship was asleep. Each step he took through the Albatross set off the emergency lights that lined the edges of the hall, a soft white glow swelling and receding like deep, sleeping breaths.

Sid punched in the code for the training room. The doors let him in.

“Rime,” Sid called, walking a loop around the small, circular room. There was padding around the lower half of the walls and a ring of lights around the top. The floor had a give to it, slightly springy beneath his feet. There was the telltale chime of the system waking up and then in front of him materialized a hologram. Sid waited for it to solidify and take shape.

It was mostly featureless, a nondescript white form, sturdy-looking and not particularly tall. The features it did have were mostly indistinguishable, familiar to Sid but constantly shifting.

“I’d like to engage in a sparring session.” Sid said, pacing his side of the room.

They started on the ground across from each other. The ship was designed to know the level of its opponent. Sid had been sparring this program for a long time, and there was no trick to it; you couldn’t find any repetitiveness in its motions, its moves came as randomly as they would if sparring another human, and as frustrating as fighting yourself. The hologram matched you move for move. Sid had gotten good at it over the years. He needed to keep himself sharp. He did not feel sharp right now, he felt clumsy, making it far too easy for Rime to roll him and position itself to make a move for an arm bar.

_“You are conflicted.”_

“No, I’m not,” Sid grunted, and gripped his hands together. Rime’s hold wasn’t secure and Sid pulled against it until he could reach up quickly to release Rime’s grip and tear his arm away. Sid thrust his elbow down, rolling towards Rime and grabbing its leg, trying to get inside its guard.

_“Distracted, then,”_ Rime said and maneuvered away from him, tipping Sid back over. Sid made a frustrated growl and Rime leaned into his face. _“You care about what that Bhosik thinks and how he feels.”_

“You’re wrong,” he countered.

For a second, Rime’s eyes settled and glowed gold. _“For sure.”_

“Disengage,” Sid barked, frustrated with the position Zhenya had put him in. The hologram disappeared and Sid left the room sweaty and exhausted. Maybe he would finally get some sleep.

★

Sid and his officers rode out across the unyielding plains of sand and snow until they reached the edge of the canyons. It was a similar path to the one Sid had taken with Zhenya and Gonchar yesterday. He gripped the handlebars of his hoverbike tighter. If Zhenya had told anybody that he had been on Sid’s ship, in his quarters-- _if someone had seen him--_

They were the first ones to arrive at their destination, a cluster of stone sculptures: smooth rocks, balanced carefully one on top of the other. Sid leaned against his bike as he waited. The black metal was hot under the sun, leaking through the fabric of his jacket.

The sky was cloudless and the air was cool, unusually still as they watched the horizon. In the far distance, to his left, Sid could make out the hazy shapes of the Bhosiks’ guard and their tarsiers as they approached. Those same feelings of unease from last night welled up inside of him as he watched them steadily get closer.

The Bhosik guards carried forked flagpoles with strips of red fabric fluttering down from the tip in streams, lapping gently at the air. Sid’s gaze snapped right to Zhenya, standing tall amongst his party, veiled in his ornamented garb. Sid knew how much those coins weighed now, just how heavy they would be laid one on top of the other like that. Sid’s bones ached in sympathy.

Zhenya cut an imposing figure, as imposing as his betrothed. Sid could just make out the faint tinkling of the coins, like chimes in the wind, as a gust picked up, coming from the east.

Sid turned his face into it. The Irluths. They floated over the great vast expanse. The black orb from their ship hovered along with them like a dead, forgotten star. Sid repressed a shiver.

Everyone was watching their advance. Sid looked back at Zhenya and met his eyes, dark through the cutouts in the veils. Sid knew their owner now. He fought to keep his face neutral and looked away, back across the sands to the Irluths and their encroaching shadow.

When they got near, Sid moved to stand at the center of the cluster of rock statues, Brian by his side and Kris standing at the edge operating the device that would record what was said to be reviewed later.

Denis and Federov stood near the front of the Bhosiks, Zhenya and Gonchar off to one side. Sid had known that Zhenya wouldn’t be speaking for himself, he just hadn’t been aware how far his removal would be. It was clear now who would be negotiating on his behalf.

Sid felt a droplet of cold sweat run down his hairline. He let it hang there, clinging. He did not wipe it off.

Unsurprisingly, the additional information exchanged during the first meeting of the two parties did not go over well. The Irluths pushed for more information on the source of the metal, which the Bhosiks resisted. The sun got stronger overhead, glaring in Sid’s eyes and making his temples throb.

“That’s not what we had agreed to,” Denis snapped. They had been going back and forth now for hours. Zhenya’s parents sat in the shade under a tent that had been brought with them.

Sid felt rather than heard the growing rumble of the Irluths preparing their rebuttal. He cut in before they could. “I think this is a good place to stop. Each party has something to think about. We’ll reconvene in five days to give you time to assess and come up with better proposals.”

When the suns finally set, Sid took his hoverbike out in no particular direction, drifting over the wavelets of sand. He kept going until the Bhosik city was in the far distance, the lights from nighttime activity sparkling brilliantly in the gloom. In the opposite direction, Sid could see the Irluth craft hanging in the air like a storm cloud in wait.

“Rime?” Sid whispered into the night but he was too far away from the ship. There was something just in the distance, a rhythmic beeping so faint he wasn’t even sure if it was even there. Sid pushed up his sleeve, switching the frequencies on his wrist Pad. Whatever it was, it was hard to zero in on. Sid was only able to pick up patchy chunks of it, fizzing in and out. It sounded analog to Sid, unique compared to the high-pitched buzzing of modern devices.

Whatever it was it felt familiar to Sid, important, but he couldn’t remember. A puzzle piece with all the wrong shapes. Sid cursed in frustration. He didn’t like being in the dark.

Back at the ship, Sid lay in bed staring out the window. He fished his hand inside the pillowcase, pulling out the square of glossy paper. He ran the tip of his finger over the worn edge. There were three people in the photograph but Sid only recognized one, himself. It was a memento from a time he couldn’t even remember. He had spent a lot of time staring at it over the past year, but as always, it gave him nothing.

Sid sighed and slid it back safely inside its home and reached for the sensor pads, sticking them to his temples.

_Log 373-- “We had our first negotiations today, there remains friction between the parties.”_

_“How are you feeling?”_

Sid looked out his window, past the swirls of creeping frost blanketing the glass and obscuring the picture.

_“Lost.”_

★

“Gonchar,” Sid greeted when he finally located him. Sid had been navigating his way through the tunnels on his own all morning, searching for the commander.

“What,” Gonchar said. He was sitting at his desk: past the barracks, and the stables, and the storage room Sid had so helpfully left his uniform in. He was starting to suspect that hadn’t been such a coincidence after all.

“I need to talk to Zhenya,” Sid explained. He looked around the office; it was filled with drawings and charts. On Gonchar’s desk sat a number of unique mechanical devices Sid had never seen before.

“He’s busy at the moment,” Gonchar said shortly.

Sid clasped his hands tighter behind his back. Sid had had enough of the bullshit.

“No, Sergei,” he pressed. “ _I_ _need to talk to Zhenya._ ”

Gonchar’s eyes snapped up to meet Sid’s. He cursed under his breath, a string of words Sid couldn’t identify, and shook his head. “When he’s free, I’ll send him to go collect you at your ship.”

“No, not the ship,” Sid insisted.

Gonchar narrowed his eyes at him. “Fine, remember where the stables are? I’ll send him to meet you there in an hour.” Gonchar looked back down at his desk in clear dismissal.

Sid nodded his assent. He didn’t hang around, instead choosing to spend his hour trying to find his way to the city center Gonchar had taken him to. Sid wanted to be able to take his time and look around without someone directing him. Time passed easily, as there was no end of things to look at. Eyes followed him just like last time but Sid didn’t pay it any mind, and people were friendly enough. He stopped at a stand where a woman was working a small metal rod over a fire, a piece of glass wrapped around the tip of it. Strings of beads hung all over the frame of her work place. A short strand stood out to him, turquoise, like the colour of the ocean.

“Do you take galactic units?” Sid asked and she smiled.

Zhenya wasn’t there when Sid went back to the stables. Like last time there was a tarsier there, only one and sleeping soundly. Sid looked around. Maybe he was being blown off. Sid sighed. He could understand if Zhenya didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

Sid examined one of the pelts hanging from a rack on the wall. He had a feeling he knew where it came from and he didn’t know how to feel about it hanging so close to a tarsier that still had its skin on its body.

“So, you changed your mind, you see I’m right?”

Sid turned. Zhenya was standing with one of the harnesses slung over his shoulder.

“No,” Sid said, equally as stubborn. “But there’s something going on here and you’re going to help me figure it out. Turns out you’re the only person whose motives I trust.”

Zhenya grinned at him broadly. "Don’t look too smug." Sid grumbled.

Zhenya woke up the tarsier and saddled it, holding out his hand again to Sid once he had mounted.

“I can’t ride my own?” Sid asked, and Zhenya snorted like it was the most ridiculous thing he had heard all day. Sid glowered.

“No,” Zhenya said. “Besides, we keep this small, close.” He gestured between the three of them. “Keep secret, safe.”

_Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead._ Sid thought of the old proverb and looked between Zhenya and the tarsier. It blinked lethargically at him with its large golden eyes. _Well, maybe two can keep a secret if one of them can’t speak_.

Zhenya took them out towards the dunes again but veered off at the last moment, weaving under rock arches and between canyon passages. Sid was happy when they didn’t climb any rock pillars like they had last time. Zhenya did steer them up a shallow incline to an area where they were sheltered from the wind, caged in on every side by tall rock faces. At the bottom of one was a small cave.

“We get off here,” Zhenya instructed.

Sid released his grip on Zhenya’s jacket and slid off, and Zhenya followed him. The tarsier seemed to know where they were headed and crawled right into the cave without any preamble. Sid followed its lead. He crouched inside the opening and let Zhenya crawl past him, over to a hole in the cave floor. Zhenya knelt beside it and beckoned him over. It was pitch black and wide enough for a person to slip through. Sid swallowed. He couldn’t make out the bottom, if there even was one. He looked up at Zhenya, who smirked at him. Zhenya pulled a palm-sized ball of light from his pocket and dropped it down the hole. Sid waited to hear the soft thud of it landing. It didn’t come as quickly as he hoped it would.

“Don’t make me wait for you,” Zhenya said, and without another word, swung his legs over and disappeared down the hole after the light.

“Great,” Sid muttered, and looked over at the tarsier that was sleeping peacefully once again. Asking it to lower him down with its tail was out of the question and would probably be deemed rude. Sid resigned himself to his fate. He positioned himself at the edge and with a deep breath let himself fall. He slid down the smooth rocky chute, dropping him into a dark chamber.

Sid stood up and dusted himself off, not feeling too bruised anywhere other than his tailbone. There was the beckoning glow of light coming from his right. Sid squeezed through the passage to the other side. It opened up into a cavern, lit brightly and filled to the brim with gadgets. Sid looked around in amazement. One end disappeared into what Sid thought might be a tunnel but his view was blocked by a bulky shape concealed by a tarp.

There were drawings plastering the walls, similar enough to the ones in Gonchar’s office that Sid realized this must be the origin. Piles of intriguing items cluttered every surface and obstructed the edges of the room. Sid looked over at Zhenya, who was standing there, watching Sid with his arms crossed over his chest.

“This is amazing,” Sid said, and Zhenya visibly relaxed a notch. “Does anyone else know about this?”

Zhenya shook his head. “There’s people who know what I suspect, people I trust, but I don’t show them,” he explained. “Don’t want them to be responsible.”

“But you have no problem showing me, eh?” Sid said, knowingly, sliding his eyes over to where Zhenya was hovering.

Zhenya shrugged one shoulder and fiddled with something on one of his work benches. “You’re strong, can take care of yourself. That's why you're captain.” Sid’s brows rose in surprise and Zhenya rolled his eyes. “Yes, I can say nice things too. Come here, I want you to see.”

Sid peered his head over the worktop, curiously. Spread out on it were detailed archives of star systems, planets, and different ships. There was one with a familiar schematic drawn in white.

“What’s this?” Sid asked, pointing to it.

“Yes, the ship they use it’s old and not theirs,” Zhenya explained excitedly, pushing papers out of the way so Sid could read where it was labeled “ _Creshan DZ06._ They took their ship from someone else. I think they’ve done this before, lie to make a deal then get paid. Maybe they just steal.”

Sid took all this in, pondering what he’d learned and paging through some of the other documents strewn across the worktop. He dragged himself up from deep thought. “This is definitely something to look into.”

“So you’ll stop the treaty?” Zhenya’s eyes were big and hopeful and Sid did feel bad that he was going to have to tell him no, _again._

“You know I can’t do that,” Sid said gently. “I would need more proof. Proof without a doubt. Yes it’s a war ship, and maybe unlikely but the Creshans could just have easily sold their craft to the Irluths, it’s not enough.”

Zhenya sighed. “I know--it’s just they’re poisonous,” he hissed, flashing his teeth. “Unnatural, wrong.”

“I know,” Sid admitted. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

Zhenya waved him off and shook himself like he was ridding himself of the thought.

Sid looked past him and changed the subject. “Do I get to know what that is?” he asked, inclining his head towards the large blanketed object he had noticed when he entered the cave.

Zhenya looked back over his shoulder. He grinned. "You'll like this."

It was a ship. Zhenya had pieced together a two-man vessel out of stray bits of machinery and space junk, welded together with a web of that mysterious gold metal like bits of pottery mended with kintsugi. Golden repair.

“Is the transmitter working?” Sid asked.

“I try to fix it up,” Zhenya explained. “It’s,” he waved his hand in a so-so motion. “I can pick up some things, it’s not perfect yet. Why?”

“Nothing, just a thought,” Sid replied. “It could be useful is all.”

“She’s got a cloaking device,” Zhenya said proudly and patted the side.

Sid frowned. “Those are illegal.”

“You going to arrest me?” Zhenya challenged and Sid just shook his head. He was already in so much shit.

“Do you mind if I take closer look at those documents?”

Sid sat on the floor by the fire, paging through Zhenya’s collected research. Not all of it was useful but it was interesting either way. They sat in silence, Zhenya on a stool at his work bench and Sid in his nest of papers. Sid was overly aware of Zhenya. Every once in a while Zhenya would look up and Sid would pretend he hadn’t noticed it when Zhenya studied his profile. He was pretty sure Zhenya was sitting over there drawing him.

Sid felt an awareness of his body that he wasn’t accustomed to. There were a few pieces of loose paper Zhenya had left with him to take down notes if he felt like it. Sid fiddled with one, ripping off a square. He didn’t really know what he was doing but he started folding it, keeping the creases neat and crisp, edges aligned. When he finished he had a small sculpture sitting in his palm. It looked sort of like a bird, though Sid wasn’t sure what kind.

Zhenya sat down beside him by the fire. “What’s that?” he asked, leaning into Sid’s space.

“I don’t know,” Sid confessed, turning it over in his fingers. “Here, you can keep it,” he said, and placed it in Zhenya’s outstretched palm.

Sid watched as Zhenya curled his fingers around it carefully, caging it in. Like it was something worth protecting. It’s just paper, Sid thought. It wasn’t even living.

★

Sid stared down the hall in the Irluths’ craft. It was like someone had tipped over a black cup full of shade, crawling towards him. His limbs did not want to move. Sid flexed his hands at his sides. He still had a task he had to complete. Sid was still resolute in his ability to find the overarching pattern. To unweave it and piece it back together in a way that made sense.

The Irluth faction had requested a meeting with him that morning and Sid had been dreading it every second since.

At the beginning of this mission, Sid had found it to be oppressive underground, especially alone. After spending a few nights with Zhenya, he had gotten used to it. That sensation was still nothing compared to being inside this cylinder of steel and heat.

Cloying scent drifted through the air, leaving a pungent film on the inside of his nose. Their meeting was thankfully brief.

_“We will agree to their terms. We do not wish to delay any further,”_ the Irluths informed him, hovering in the same positions they had been in the last time he was here. If Sid didn’t know any better, he’d say that they hadn’t moved at all.

“If you find the treaty unsatisfactory--”

They cut him off. _“We find it adequate.”_

Sid nodded, surrendering. He could not sway their decision in good faith. That didn’t mean the outcome left him feeling anything but empty and cold.

Sid coasted on a glaze of muddled thoughts during his trip back to the Albatross. Like skidding on a sheet of ice, his mind spun, unable to find purchase. Over the past year he had kept much to his own counsel. Any relapse in memory was to be combed through with Rime.

It hadn’t helped.

Sid turned to Kris at his side, who was wrapped up in reading through the transcripts from the negotiation, his heel tapping an uneven rhythm under the table.

“I don’t like them,” Sid admitted aloud. The confession resonated through the deserted mess hall.

Kris looked up sharply, and suddenly that focused attention was directed at Sid. “Of course not, they’re dicks. Giant, floating dicks.”

Sid gave him an unimpressed look.

“I know you know what I mean.”

Sid smirked and looked down at the dregs of soup in his bowl. He’d been hungry lately in a way he’d never been before. Ravenous. “Yeah, they’re dicks,” Sid conceded.

Kris shoved his shoulder. “There he is,” he said, fondly.

“I just feel--” Sid started, and Kris watched him expectantly, that same keen hope abundant as Sid’s stunted bastard of a sentence got all mashed up in his throat. He couldn’t explain it. There were so many things he felt. Dredged up, like the murky silt of the ocean floor, and with no outlet.

Kris watched him, crestfallen, and Sid couldn’t look at him anymore. It felt like something had its iron grip wrapped around his tongue. He pressed his fingers to his eyes until neon geometry sizzled against the darkness that tore through with a dull throb.

“Captain?”

Sid looked up. Brian was watching him apprehensively.

“I asked for some help with the research, I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course.” Sid smiled. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“It took a lot of digging,” Brain said, sitting down across from Sid and leaning in close. “Whatever it is, it’s old. I can’t identify it. And the ship--” He shook his head like he still couldn’t believe it. “The ship is a Creshan DZ06 vessel,” he finished, confirming Sid’s suspicions. Zhenya had been right.

Brian continued, “That was a doozy, look at this. Where the coordinates of their abandoned planet is supposed to be, there’s a gravitational disturbance. Like there’s a celestial body there but we’re being disrupted by some kind of interference. I can’t make it out, do you think it’s some kind of foreign radiation?”

“No, the ship would be able to identify that kind of behavior. This is good, really good work,” Sid said. The Creshans had had a falling out years ago with the Alliance, that had been about a decade before Sid had been accepted into the academy. The war had taken out a lot of Alliance ships but they had won in the end and most of the Creshan war crafts were confiscated. Sid had heard many stories about that time but a lot of the details were buried deep in restricted archives. The Alliance didn’t like to flaunt it’s previous involvement in combat, even when necessary.

“While we’re talking about this, that spinning black ball thing, I don’t like that either. It feels familiar in a bad way,” Kris interjected snapping Sid back to the conversation at hand. “But I don’t know where I’ve seen it before.”

This is all starting to feel familiar in a bad way, Sid thought. He turned to Brian. “See if you can find anything on that as well. We might as well try while we’re at it.”

Brian nodded eagerly. “What I don’t understand is why we weren’t sent to look into this beforehand.”

Sid was beginning to wonder that very same thing. Foreboding balled up tight in his chest.

There was another blunt stab just underneath the thin skin of his temples and he stood. “I’ve got to go do my log, let me know if you find anything else useful.”

Kris called something after him but Sid was already making a beeline for the exit. He bypassed his quarters entirely, instead heading towards the med bay. He nodded at the night shift medical officer sitting behind her desk.

“Is the reorientation chamber free?”

She smiled at him. “It’s yours.”

The doors to the chamber slid open for him soundlessly. It was an imposing room, sterile white and completely still. The back wall was a circle, and the room curved around it so Sid was enclosed inside a cylinder. Sid sat down in the chair at the center. Whatever material made up the walls was shiny like lacquer and Sid was faced with the ghostly image of his face. Sid placed the sensor pads on his temples and the room filled with the _whoosh whoosh whoosh_ sound of the machine powering up.

_“Rime,”_ Sid thought, and a light pulsed on the back wall, starting to spin slowly in a circle around his warped reflection. Sid heard the chime and let his eyes unfocus and the voice filled his head.

_“Are you ready to proceed?”_

_“Yes,”_ he thought.

_“Rift,”_ the voice called and Sid gave up the first word that came to mind.

_“Swift.”_

_“Ball,”_ it called again.

_“Squall.”_

It continued on like that, becoming easier as they went. The pressure easing behind Sid’s temples eased as he mindlessly offered up a rhyming word. The foreboding left him, the questions he had about everything he had seen seemed to matter less. Sid had a directive and he was following it. He had done his job soundly.

_“Coexist,”_

_“Cyst.”_

The chime rang with finality and the pulsing light stopped spinning. Sid was released from the chamber. That night, like every night that he could remember, Sid didn't dream.

★

“You’re quiet.”

“I’m reading,” Sid said, doing just that in the spot he’d claimed by the fire. It had dimmed greatly, now just a pile of embers and coals. Muted rays of early morning light crept in through the thin crevices in the rock. Time passed easily in this space together, but soon they would have to go. Sid flipped his page.

“Normally you have lots to say. Always an opinion, it never stops, you don’t even notice.”

Sid looked up, catching Zhenya as he shook his head, reluctantly amused. He was crouching under the body of his ship, fiddling with a jumble of wires that spilled out of the side. Zhenya had abandoned his jacket and long-sleeve shirt, clad only in an undershirt. Sid could see the shift of the muscles in his shoulder and the black edge of the tattoo there, highlighted by the gleam of his skin.

Watching him made something hot flip over in Sid’s stomach and he looked back down at the pages in front of him, forgetting where he’d left off. It didn’t really matter; there was nothing new here. Nothing Sid hadn’t pored over what felt like hundreds of times the last few days.

“What I don’t understand is why negotiate in the first place.”

“My mother didn’t want to form a treaty. We don’t know for sure what weapons they have. But we were advised by your admiralty, and my brother likes this plan.” Zhenya snorted derisively. "Fedorov too."

Sid frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. It’s against our policy to give that sort of counsel. We’re only allowed to moderate, not intervene.”

Zhenya raised his eyebrows pointedly at where Sid was sitting in his nest of documents.

“And whose fault is that?” Sid said, flushing with unease. Zhenya laughed with his whole body.

“How are you planning on getting that thing out of here?” Sid said, changing the subject.

Zhenya gestured towards the cavern of velvety black behind where the ship was parked. “That’s a tunnel. You follow it, it takes you straight out.”

“And it’s big enough?”

“I hope so,” Zhenya said. With a groan, he stretched and came over to sit across from Sid. Grabbing a few things off his desk on the way, he offered Sid a piece of dried yalakh meat.

Sid regarded it. “You want an opinion?” Zhenya nodded, watching him as he flipped through what Sid gleaned was his sketchbook. “I’m going to be really happy when I get to eat something that’s not dried insect.”

It took a beat, and then Zhenya threw his head back and laughed and Sid chuckled along with him, dizzy with the feeling. He tore apart the strip with some force; it looked fibrous, like tree bark. “It is better fresh with the pickled vegetables, I'll give it that.” Sid gave up on tearing it into sizable pieces and ripped off another chunk with his teeth, making Zhenya laugh again.

They sat together. Sid poked pointlessly at the fire; there was no bringing it back now. Zhenya was doing the same thing he had been doing all the other times they had come here: after he had finished tinkering with his ship he would sit down and covertly sketch Sid when he thought Sid wasn’t paying him any attention. Sid used the word _covertly_ loosely.

“Are you drawing me?” Sid asked, and maybe Zhenya got a little red around the ears, ducking his head, but he hummed in assent.

“You have good features for practice.” He met Sid’s eyes, pressing his tongue between his teeth, a little flash of glimmering pink skin. “Maybe you take your shirt off.”

“I’m not going to take my shirt off,” Sid scoffed, looking away. “That would be inappropriate.”

_“That would be inappropriate--”_ Zhenya mocked in a falsetto. “Not say _do_ , only say _maybe._ ”

_Semantics_ , Sid thought dryly, and just barely resisted rolling his eyes. _Of course_.

“Maybe, eh?” Sid looked down at the piece of dried yalakh. “Do you have any food that’s not so chewy?”

Zhenya grinned in a way that put all of his teeth on display and Sid realized for the first time just how sharp they were. Sid waited as Zhenya ruffled through his collective clutter and brought back something wrapped in waxy cloth. He offered it to Sid, pulling it away at the last moment and gesturing with his chin at Sid’s jacket which was still fastened in place.

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” Sid said, ducking his head to cover up the way his body had flashed hot and blotchy. Zhenya gave him a shrug. It _was_ stuffy in here. Sid worked at his buttons, and when he discarded the jacket, he was handed the parcel.

“Good, here, eat,” Zhenya said as if he thought there was a direct correlation between feeding Sid and getting his clothes off.

Well, _maybe_.

Sid pulled apart the bread. It was thick and sticky, sweet when he touched it experimentally to his tongue. He ripped off another piece and ate it. Zhenya had already eaten his portion and was sucking his fingers clean, watching Sid intently. Sid picked at the front of his shirt with the hand that was the cleaner of the two. It was warm and Sid’s dark regulating long-sleeve wasn’t helping.

If he liked Zhenya’s eyes on him, that was a private thought.

Sid curled his fingers under the hem and peeled the shirt off over his head. Zhenya wasn’t shy about watching him. For all that talk about drawing, his pencils and paper were abandoned on the floor at his side.

“What?” Sid asked when Zhenya continued to not _do anything--_

“What do you do to look like that?” he asked, taking Sid off guard.

“Oh.” Sid looked down at himself and felt the heat in his face rack up a notch. "Some martial arts. Wrestling, mostly. Grappling is a standard part of training at the academy."

Zhenya sighed wistfully. “I always wanted to go.”

“Really?” Sid asked, intrigued.

“Yeah, but it’s not my job, _responsibility--_ ” Zhenya drew out the word like he had been hearing a lot of it lately. “Did you always want to be Captain?” Zhenya asked instead of continuing that thought. His eyes were large, full of genuine intrigue and Sid felt bad lying to him. He settled on a half-truth instead. 

“As far back I can remember,” Sid said, his vision growing fuzzy as he recalled waking up in a hospital bed, disoriented and with all of his memories in disarray. Sid shook his head. All he had been left with were fragments.

He realized he had paused for an unusually long time and when he looked up Zhenya was watching him closely. Sid cleared his throat. “It was just something I was naturally good at, working hard. And that’s all you really need. It’s like with defence training, skill is helpful but it doesn’t beat effort and dedication.”

Zhenya’s expression had softened into that of amused fondness. 

“What, you disagree?” Sid asked. 

“You’re humble,” Zhenya said and Sid was taken aback at the certainty in that statement. 

“It’s like your drawings,” Sid said. “They’re beautiful because you practice.” 

Zhenya ducked his head, touching the cover of his sketchbook and contemplating for a moment before looking up at Sid with a glint in his eyes. “You show me?” 

Sid’s pulse quickened. “Show you what?”

“Defence,” Zhenya said simply and Sid swallowed dry. It couldn’t hurt. 

"I guess it's good to be prepared," Sid said, and cleared away some of the mess he’d made. There wasn't enough room, not by a long shot, but Sid got the feeling Zhenya didn’t really care about that. 

“Come here.” Zhenya shuffled forwards. “Lie on your back, plant your feet on the floor,” Sid instructed, and Zhenya raised his eyebrows but did what was asked of him. Sid settled between his bent legs, fitting his hands behind Zhenya’s knees, watching the colour bloom high on his cheeks. Sid wrapped Zhenya’s legs around his waist. “Now I'm in your guard. This is where you want me to be.”

What was standard practice now made Sid’s heart beat rapidly and his brain stall. “Actually, we can’t really do much without shirts on, most the beginners moves involve--”

Zhenya tightened his legs around Sid’s waist and in a move Sid felt sure was smoother in Zhenya’s head, flipped them, making Sid lose his breath entirely. 

“I win?” Zhenya panted. It took a lot of effort to move Sid in that way. His self-satisfied grin was diminished by the fact that his eyes kept straying down to Sid’s mouth. 

Sid licked his lips. His hands slowly drifted up to bracket Zhenya’s hips, holding him in place. Sid wasn’t sure if he wanted to push Zhenya away or draw him near. Was it possible to feel both at once? Surely that was impossible, it would be too much for just one person to endure.

_Maybe that was why people preferred to live in twos,_ Sid thought. “I’m not going to have sex with you,” was what he said instead. 

Zhenya leaned over him and pressed one palm flat to Sid’s chest. “Just a kiss, I know you want too.” He tapped his sharp nails across the thin skin of Sid’s sternum. “I can hear your heart. It’s very loud, no wonder your hearing so bad.” He leaned in close and whispered, “Loud like beating wings.” 

“Hey,” Sid said, but Zhenya was still smiling at him like he was _fond--_ he hardly knew Sid wall enough to be fond. Or that’s what Sid had thought.

The pink of Zhenya’s tongue appeared again as his face closed in. He brushed the tips of their noses together lightly, sending a quiver down Sid’s spine. Sid felt his chest swell until he was certain it was impossible for him to hold anything else in.

Zhenya pressed their mouths together delicately. Sid could feel the tickle of sparse hair on his upper lip. _Like whiskers_ , he thought, and Zhenya kissed him, then kissed him again, each time more confident than the last. Tension unknotted inside Sid as he opened up underneath Zhenya. His lips buzzed, the soft touch of Zhenya’s tongue against Sid’s making him sigh.

Sid traced the delicate, thin curve of Zhenya’s ear, pleased when the touch made Zhenya gasp and settle deeper over him. He kissed Sid again, deeply, and Sid unclenched his fingers from Zhenya’s hips, catching the back of his head instead. Zhenya’s hair was so soft and fine. Sid cradled his head gently, the press of him filling the aching chasm in his chest.

Zhenya’s kissing was wet and unpracticed, but that only made Sid want it more. He sucked on Zhenya’s full bottom lip and felt his breath sail across Sid’s cheek, warm and honey-sweet from the bread. Zhenya’s hands came up to rest against Sid’s chest, letting Sid take the weight of him as he rocked himself down. Sid buried his moans under his tongue, smothering them against Zhenya’s mouth. His body lit up with the friction as Zhenya began to roll his hips once, then again, dragging himself over where Sid was hard in his pants, the material tight and constricting. Sid slipped his hands down Zhenya’s back, rucking up the bottom of his undershirt and exploring the warm skin at the base of his spine. He played with the dusting of hair right above his waistband. Sid imagined the strands would be gold gossamer.

Zhenya’s lips travelled to Sid’s neck, trailing up under the cut of his jaw and over the shell of his ear, wetting the skin there and taking it experimentally into his mouth. It was good, Sid couldn’t believe just how good it was. He tried to reconcile his body with everything he had felt before, but nothing could compare, his body was like clay being moulded into something entirely new.

Sid nuzzled past Zhenya’s sideburn, gingerly taking the ridge of Zhenya’s ear between his lips in turn and sucking. Zhenya broke away with a gasp. The strength of Sid’s desire was overwhelming, searing through him like a knife’s edge. Zhenya rutted them together more insistently, his fingernails digging into Sid’s skin, diligently trying to set them ablaze. Sid could feel the press of something through their pants, a blunt, hot swell nudging against his cock. He was struck by a sudden thought that overwhelmed him: he had no idea what was there, just behind the fly of Zhenya’s pants. Sid could peel them back, let loose whatever was trapped there. Touch him. Maybe in a way no one had ever touched him before--

Sid squeezed his eyes tight against the yearning. It swelled inside him until it ached. A droplet rolled back into his hairline. Sid didn’t know if it was sweat or a single tear. “I can’t,” he choked out. Zhenya felt so good, _perfect--_ “Zhenya, I can’t--”

The warm press of Zhenya’s body stilled over him, and he pulled back, looking Sid in the eyes. Zhenya took him in for what felt like an eternity as Sid’s gut cloyed. His mouth looked ripe and slick and used like torn-open fruit wet with sap. Zhenya rubbed his hands over Sid’s chest in a way that was probably supposed to be soothing, but Sid didn’t feel quieted. His nerves were stirred up into a clamour, hot all over like he’d been scorched.

“Okay,” Zhenya yielded, and swung off. He adjusted the front of his pants and gathered up his things, moving them over to sit at his desk, far away from Sid and the warm circle of light.

★

_Up to scratch_ , Sid thought, resigned, as he stared at his reflection. He pushed his hair back off his forehead. He had let it grow long and unruly, wild like tumbleweeds. He yanked on his jacket to straighten it out, feeling like his reflection betrayed him. He had shaven the short stalks of stubble that peppered his jaw, leaving his skin feeling raw. Leaning in, Sid could have sworn he had nicked his skin, but nothing was there. Since they had left the cave together that final time, Sid had felt overtaken by the wordless sensation of being seen. By himself, clearly, for the first time in a long time; by another.

It welled up soundlessly inside him now, like the hot blood of a fresh wound, and Sid was struck by the sudden desire to shatter the mirror. He grabbed his gloves instead and exited his quarters. Kris was waiting for him just on the other side of the door where Sid had been expecting empty air. He stepped around him and Kris jogged to catch up.

“Ready?” he asked, turning Sid’s question back on him. It felt like a lifetime had happened between then and now.

“As I’m ever going to be,” Sid replied.

The sands were restless, swirling with the tides of air coming from the east. Sid looked up into the suns and caught the silhouettes of two feathered creatures streaking across the sky, their twin tails dancing in the wind. They cut off into the canyons, disturbed most likely by the encroaching shadow. The Irluths and their sphere hovered in utter stillness, only their many arms swayed gently by the breeze. Across from him, Zhenya stood in a similar state, as tall and gracefully still as a monolith.

The sigh Sid expelled from his chest felt like it could rival any tempest that danced across the dunes. He stepped between the rock sculptures, feeling clumsy in the face of their careful equanimity. Sid was resolute in his decision to conclude this and not draw it out needlessly.

Like ripping off a bandage, he knew the resolution was coming, but still, it panged when the Chieftress stepped forward and curled her fingers around the papery, thin hand of the Irluth, the rocks and her kin as a witness.

It had been done. Sid felt like a coward.

Not bothering to turn on the lights, Sid barreled into his room. Tearing off his jacket, he poured himself a drink, something he hardly ever did. The bottle had been a gift from his former Captain, Lemieux, one of the rare memories Sid felt like he could still grasp with both hands without it seeping out from between his fingers. Sid took another pull from his glass. It didn’t really do anything for him, but it was amazing how even the dullest tactile sensations could breathe life into a memory.

“Sidney.”

Sid just about jumped out of his skin and scrambled for the lamp on his desk. It cast a thin shaft of light that just barely reached the bed, but there, sitting on Sid’s mattress cross-legged as if he belonged there, was Zhenya.

“Jesus Christ,” Sid breathed. “You really need to stop doing that.” He leaned back against his desk, not daring to go over to Zhenya on the bed. A whole series of bad decisions lay in wait just over there.

In the end, that only meant Zhenya stood up and came to stand in front of him, close enough that Sid could make out the shadows staining the tender, thin skin below his eyes. Sid crossed his arms over his chest.

“Don’t try and come find me,” Zhenya said. “I’m not going to be allowed to leave the city and it’s not safe for you to be there with me.”

None of this was safe for Sid, not from the beginning. He balled up his fists under his biceps. Zhenya wasn’t telling him anything that he didn’t already know, but still-- “I’ll fix it.”

Zhenya shook his head, defeated. He looked down at the space between them, exposing the tender swirl of hair at the crown of his skull, thin-skinned and unveiled. In the same way Sid had been taken by the need to break and bend earlier, now all he wanted to do was lay his hands over Zhenya’s unguarded scalp.

“I don’t think you can,” Zhenya said, unaware of the small storm brewing inside Sid. “I was--it was a silly idea.”

Zhenya had been angry when he had first come to Sid, and maybe for a while, Sid had thought that was all there was to it. But his temper had been a patina and once that was scraped away it was easy to see what was left: fear.

Sid reached out and curled his fingers around Zhena’s wrists. He stepped easily into Sid’s space, like that one touch was all the excuse he had been waiting for. “What can I do?” Sid asked.

Zhenya pushed closer into him and wrapped his arms around Sid’s waist. Sid pulled him in, holding him in return. His face fit perfectly into the juncture of Zhenya’s neck. Zhenya sighed tremulously against him, like he was unburdening a great weight, and Sid took it for him without hesitation. They stood there for a while, until Zhenya pulled back, only a little, his face still close enough for Sid to feel his breath drift warm over Sid’s skin. Zhenya kissed his shaven jaw, still sensitive, and Sid tilted his face up.

What had been careless and heated last time was now slow and deliberate. Sid brought his hands up to curl his fingers around Zhenya’s ears carefully, stroking his thumbs over them in a gentle caress. The pressure of Zhenya’s mouth was steady, slow and searing. It was different but perfect all the same. Sid tilted his head and deepened the kiss, trapping Zhenya’s moan against his tongue. His hands rubbed circles over Sid’s chest, working his way down over Sid’s stomach and stayed there, just touching him, his hands hot through the thin fabric. They were big, smoothing over Sid’s core. He shifted where he stood when Zhenya kept stroking him until Sid’s skin was flushed and buzzing.

“Zhenya,” he panted, and Zhenya’s hands stilled.

Zhenya pulled away just enough to meet his eyes. “Sid, please I--” He looked down between them where his hands were resting and just underneath them where Sid’s pants were drawn tight. “I just want to see, one time before--” He swallowed, cutting himself off but he didn’t need to finish the sentence for Sid to understand. It was what he suspected. That didn’t stop his breath from catching in the bend of his throat when Zhenya asked: “Let me watch,” and how was he ever supposed to say no?

Zhenya stepped back when Sid reached for his fly, smoothing his hands up and down Sid’s arms, restless or nervous, Sid didn’t know. Maybe it was anticipation, Sid thought as Zhenya eagerly watched him peel down his zipper. Sid pulled his cock through the hole until it lolled out, flushed and still a little soft. He wrapped his hand around his shaft and stroked himself the rest of the way to hardness with a sigh. It had been too long since he’d done this and the feeling was entirely new with an audience. To have Zhenya there, watching him. He kissed Sid’s ear and his hot neck, pulling back every time to look down like he didn’t want to miss a thing. Sid firmed up his grip but kept his rhythm slow, trying to draw it out in vain. Zhenya began to rub at his stomach again encouragingly as Sid pumped himself, building towards relief.

Sid brushed his thumb over the slit, coming away slick and spreading it around till he heard Zhenya make a soft noise above him. When he looked up, Zhenya was worrying at his bottom lip, leaving it ripe and shiny. He trailed his hands down until they reached Sid’s waist, gripping him there. In one smooth motion, Zhenya squatted down so he was kneeling right in front of Sid, his face level with Sid’s cock.

“Oh god,” Sid whispered, his balls drawing up tightly at the sight of Zhenya’s face, round and pale, turned up towards him. Sid touched his soft cheek, just with the tips of his fingers, as he felt his heart take over his whole body. Surely Sid could have this much, just this one small thing.

Zhenya’s lashes cast shadows over his cheekbones, and he watched Sid from underneath them as Sid spoke to him in soft praises. He leaned forward until the head of Sid’s cock rested against the bed of his tongue and wrapped his lips around it delicately. Sid stroked the base, watching in rapture as Zhenya sucked at him, lathing his tongue over the tip. He sunk deeper, for a moment wrapping Sid in the velvety warmth of his mouth, before pulling back and kissing the crown. Sid knotted his fingers in the soft strands at the top of Zhenya’s head and pulled him away, holding him there, feeling so far beyond the realm of control. “Zhenya,” Sid repeated, that was really all he could say.

“Please,” Zhenya said, and Sid couldn’t take it, slicking his hand fast over the head of his cock until he felt himself throb and all his muscles tense as he came, splattering over Zhenya’s lips and chin. A milky droplet clung to Zhenya’s earlobe, filling Sid with thrilled embarrassment. Sid was sure out of everything he could remember and everything he could not, this was the most erotic thing he’d experienced in his life.

Zhenya wiped the mess from his face and Sid passed him his jacket to clean up with, but not before Zhenya curiously took some of Sid’s come into his mouth.

He hummed. “Doesn’t taste like anything.”

Sid stared, not really knowing what to do with that information. He zipped himself back into his pants. “What does yours taste like?” he asked, knowing that he’d never get to find out.

“I don’t make any,” Zhenya said, and Sid watched him, drinking him in as he got up and smoothed the wrinkles from his clothes. There was a small tent creasing the front of his pants, barely noticeable if Sid hadn’t been looking for it.

Sid reached across the divide and brushed the droplet from his ear. Zhenya leaned into the touch.

“I have something for you,” Sid said, and Zhenya watched curiously as Sid rifled through the pockets of his discarded jacket till he pulled out the string of beads. He held them out to Zhenya. “They reminded me of the colour of the ocean.”

Zhenya took them in hand. “Sid, are you sure?” he asked and Sid folded Zhenya’s fingers over them.

“Maybe they'll bring you some good luck.” He tried to smile but it felt dishonest, so he stopped.

“I’ve never seen the ocean,” Zhenya said. “We don’t have any here.”

“Maybe there'll be one on the planet you end up on,” Sid whispered.

Zhenya swayed on his feet. “Yeah,” he said, and tucked the string of beads carefully into his pocket. “I should go.”

Sid nodded and looked down at his desk, shuffling some papers back into order as he listened to the sound of Zhenya crossing the room. He didn’t want to have to watch him leave.

“Sid,” Zhenya called and Sid looked up one final time. “Thank you for trying.”

Sid ducked his head in a nod and Zhenya gave him a crooked smile. Then he was gone.

★

Sid didn’t hook up to Rime that night for his log or the night after, or the one after that, and on and on. He didn’t want to have to share those experiences, to have to explain himself or bury them away. The logs were kept between Sid and the system, but still, that was one spectator too many.

The crew was sequestered to their ship during the preparations. Their job here was almost done. Sid would officiate the union and then they would be leaving for another mission, another planet, another person who needed their help, Sid’s help.

On paper they had succeeded. It didn’t feel that way to Sid, and he had an inkling that his crew felt the same. None of them had embroiled themselves the way Sid had, and yet, the mood on the ship was a somber one. Dumolin and his research team hadn’t had any more success either. Just like Sid had, they seemed to be hitting roadblocks down every avenue they pursued.

Something was stirring inside him. Each night, Sid would take his hoverbike out under the never-ending stretch of moonless sky and admire the nighttime radiance of the Bhosik city. The Irluths’ craft hovered overhead, coiled like a beast of prey waiting for its moment of opportunity.

Sid sat on his bike and waited; waited for that same mysterious frequency, that had eluded him so many nights before, to find him and reveal itself to him.

His head swiveled. Across the horizon Sid could make out the lope of an animal, rare and fleeting, before it disappeared again. There was a tension in the air and it thrummed like a plucked string, wavering in intensity. Something inside Sid sizzled, and he picked up the first beat of a sequence. Sid adjusted his frequencies, zeroing in on it. Whatever it was, it was an ancient form of communication. The code transmission rate was high. Sid slowed it down, lingering on every _dit_ and _dah_ that coasted on sound waves.

Sid cocked his head. The transmission was familiar to him. He turned back to look at the smooth shape of the Albatross, almost invisible at this distance, and something clicked. Whoever they were communicating with was inside Sid’s ship and they were using a human military code, so old it was practically a relic. Sid’s mind felt clearer than it had in a long time.

★

“Where have you been all night?” Kris asked, catching Sid in one of the halls that led to the personal quarters in the ship. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Sorry, I can’t now,” Sid explained, trying to step around him.

“Sid--” Kris gripped his sleeve tight, eyes imploring. Whatever he was going to say he abandoned and instead took a deep breath and let Sid’s jacket go. “Whatever it is, just be careful. Please?”

Sid felt his brow furrow. “Yeah, of course.”

Kris nodded solemnly and left without another word. Sid continued down the hall in the opposite direction.

First, Sid locked the door to his quarters, sitting down at his desk and adjusting the display of his computer. Then he put a call through to his advisory officer.

The stern face of Fleet Admiral Rutherford appeared on screen. Sid straightened his spine reflexively. “What can I do for you, Sidney?” Sid resisted the urge to shift in place. The Admiral’s eyes slanted in the low light like chips of onyx, staring through him, and his mouth was drawn into a thin smile.

“I’ve picked up two foreign transmissions now that I believe are cause for concern,” Sid began. “It’s possible that someone on Yoinov is calling for backup, and we don’t have the means for any kind of invasion.”

The Admiral’s mouth flattening into a straight line. “Why haven't you mentioned this sooner?”

“I was trying to gather significant evidence to support my suspicions. But we’re running out of time, the ceremony is going to take place in just a few days and I--” Sid swallowed, staring back into the screen. The edges around Rutherford’s face were swallowed in darkness and Sid could make out half his reflection in it. He continued, “I am not convinced that this is a union made in good faith.”

Rutherford waved Sid’s concerns away. “To everything a season, it’s not our job to interfere.”

“Someone has already interfered,” Sid blurted out, and froze. There was a cold gleam to Rutherford’s eyes. Sid remembered Zhenya’s words: he had said his mother had been advised by someone in their Admiralty.

“You forgot to mention that part, Captain,” Rutherford said. Sid backpedaled, trying not to let it show on his face.

“It’s just a hunch,” Sid explained, trying to minimize the impact of his previous statement.

“Interesting,” Ruthorford said, flatly. “In layman's terms, Sidney, there just isn't anything we can do.”

“But--”

“Look,” Rutherford continued on, scrolling through something on his Pad. “It says here I haven’t had a captain’s log from you in close to a week. Have you reoriented lately?”

“No,” Sid admitted.

“Well,” He settled, placing his Pad back down on his desk and meeting Sid’s eyes.“Do that first. Clear the mind and then see if you come to any further conclusions. And let me know, of course,” he tacked on without inflection when Sid nodded his assent.

“Of course,” Sid said, his fists balled up against his thighs under the cover of the desk.

“Good, good,” Rutherford said with a placid imitation of a smile, and the screen went black without any further remarks. Sid let out a long slow breath, slumping in his chair.

With the med bay in his sights, Sid stalked down the hall. Bypassing the medical officer, he closed himself inside the reorientation chamber and listened to the _whoosh whoosh whoosh_ of the system booting up. Sid heard the drone of the chime echo through his skull and felt the caress of a foreign consciousness against his own.

_“Captain, it’s been a while.”_

“Don’t start,” Sid said, and gripped the armrests tightly. “Engage.”

There were the three ringing notes of the system again, making his teeth grit. Then came the first word:

_“Thresh._ ”

_“Flesh,”_ Sid countered.

_"Screw,"_

_"Blue,"_

_"Hear,"_

_"Sear,"_

It went on until Sid was thrown off balance by a sharp throb in his temple.

_“Ripe.”_

_“Pipe,”_ he choked out. There was a flash, a fragment of an image impressing itself against his mind and sending Sid off-kilter

_“Cage,”_ came the voice again, relentless.

_“Rage.”_ Sid thrust the word forwards and just like the last time he was assaulted with the flurry of foreign images.

_“Insist.”_

Something inside him repelled like two magnets with the same pole. He knew what the answer should be, he knew the system wanted him to lie down and desist.

_“Bisect,”_ Sid spat out, breaking their rhythm. There was a sound like grinding gears and between one moment and another Sid was somewhere else and very cold.

Thrust into a velveteen otherworld, Sid looked around, lost. He wasn’t inside the reorientation chamber anymore. Instead, all around him was clamour and blackness, flotsam and jetsam clogging up the sky, barring the thin sunlight from getting through. The sky was choked up with smoke.

This world he was in was filled with dark grey rocks and rolling hills of burning grass. The gravity on this planet was different; Sid could feel the additional weight of his specialized uniform around his ankles, keeping him on the ground. His phaser wasn’t strapped to his side but in his hand, switched from stun to immobilize. Around him people were screaming but Sid couldn’t hear it past the dull throb in his ears. He looked up.

A black sphere hung in the sky, circled in burning orange like an eclipse, but that wasn’t what this was. Not at all. Around him the earth was being torn apart and a viscous black liquid was pulled from it. In the distance, the screams got louder. Sid ran over knolls of scorched earth. He didn’t know where any of his crew men were, he couldn’t find a single other person. Far off in the distance, Sid could make out the familiar shadow of an Alliance ship hovering the smoke. In Sid’s ear was the gravelly voice of his superior officer crackling through. The ring around Sid’s vision fizzed with static before wiping black as Sid’s muscles gave and he fell to the earth.

The reorientation chamber was silent and still when Sid woke. Any presence that wasn’t his was gone and Sid stood on shaky legs. Feeling cold and clammy, he tried to straighten himself out.

He made his way through the medical bay with his head bowed, back down the halls. He stopped before he reached his door, hovering outside Kris's quarters.

Kris looked surprised when he answered the door.

“What happened to you?”

“You don’t want to know,” Sid muttered. “What was it you wanted to tell me?”

Kris sat heavily on the side of his bed, head bowed. Sid watched him spin his wedding ring around his finger.

“I remembered something. It isn’t much but I think I know where I’ve seen the orb before,” Kris started, hesitantly. “Just in case, I went to double-check the notes from our last mission and they’ve all been redacted, some erased entirely.”

“It was a failure,” Sid concluded. He pulled Kris’s desk chair over, settling across from him.

“It was more than that. I was a navigation lieutenant on that mission, I didn’t even leave the ship and I can't remember _anything_ that happened on the planet day _\--_ I don’t know what that means but it can’t be good.”

As they sat together in silence, Sid let himself get lost for a moment in the silver spin of Kris’s ring "No, it can't."

★

The path to Zhenya’s hideaway was as familiar to Sid as the back of his hand. He had no issues navigating through the canyons by himself at dawn. Sid parked his bike in the cave where Zhenya’s tarsier usually napped, and slipped down the tunnel.

The sheet rustled softly when Sid dragged it off Zhenya’s ship, sending motes of dust into the air. Sid seated himself inside the cockpit, behind the control yoke. He was familiar with the interfaces of many different ship systems, and the one that Zhenya had created was an interesting mix. With some trial and error, Sid was able to navigate it, punching in the series of numbers he had memorized a long time ago.

He waited with bated breath as the ship scanned for the signal. The interface lit up and Sid heard a voice come through, fragmented and breaking on stressors, but recognisable all the same. _“How do you have this direct frequency?”_

“It’s me,” Sid said, relieved, before realising that probably wasn’t helpful.

_“Sid?”_ the voice crackled.

“Mario,” Sid breathed, He hadn’t been sure this would work.

_“Are you alright? Has something happened to the ship?”_ Mario asked, his voice breaking halfway through and fuzzing out with interference. Sid fiddled with the knobs until the signal came back stronger. _“Sid, are you okay?”_

“I--it’s the mission we’ve been sent on, something’s wrong.”

_“Have you contacted the Admiralty?”_

It was a question Sid knew was coming, but still he took a moment, thinking about the right way to say this before realising there was none. “I believe the Admiralty is involved.”

_“This is a serious accusation, Sidney.”_ When Mario said his name like that, it felt very different from how Rutherford had said it.

“I know but, it’s a gut feeling and you’ve always said--”

_“I know, I do. I trust your instincts.”_

Sid continued quietly, “I think they’ve done something to my memory.”

There was an extended punctuation followed by a drawn out pause. Then the baritone of Mario’s voice as he tried to respond through a series of fluttering and interruptions.

Finally, the transmission came through clear again. _“Let me look into it.”_

There was a thunderous hum and Sid rushed to say: “Be careful,” reminded of Kris’s warning and worrying that the connection might cut out,

_“I will,”_ Mario responded. _“Wait to hear from me.”_

Sid thanked him and broke the connection. He sat there and looked out down the tunnel. He could take Zhenya and leave, just like that. Abandon everyone else to their fate. Sid’s fingers curled around the smooth skin of the yoke. It was tempting, but he could never go through with it. He wouldn’t abandon his crew.

Sid didn’t head back towards the ship. Instead, he steered his bike in the direction of the city. The morality of this mission was already in shambles. What was one more overstep?

He found what he was looking for more easily than he had expected. Slipping his body through the narrow gap of the stable window, Sid landed deftly on his feet and dusted himself off. Across the room a tarsier lifted its head from its nest, blinking at him in a way Sid had become accustomed to.

Sid greeted it before heading to Gonchar’s office.

“Sergei.”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Gonchar replied without looking up from his papers. Sid carried on anyway.

“Can you pass on a message to Zhenya for me?”

That got his attention. Gonchar looked up and met his eyes. “What kind of message?”

Sid shifted in place. “Can you just give this to him, please? He'll know what it's about."

Gonchar sighed and took the folded piece of paper from Sid’s outstretched hand. “I don’t really want to know what this is anyways.”

“And Crosby?” Gonchar called when Sid turned to leave. He looked back. “Don’t get caught,” Gonchar said with a wry twist of his lips.

Sid smiled with him. “You should call me Sid.”

★

Zhenya met him at suns-down outside the Albatross, just like Sid’s note had instructed. His figure approached slowly from the direction of the city, the muted colour of his uniform making him blend in with the landscape. He leaned heavily on his rifle as he trekked through the sand. One thing about his appearance stood out to Sid as being different: Zhenya had a satchel slung across his chest where he’d never had one before.

Zhenya pushed his hood back, revealing his face to Sid when they stood toe to toe. He held out the unfolded bit of paper, one brow lifted in question. Sid could see the words he had written there and smirked, stepping away from his bike and gesturing for Zhenya to come forward.

“Well, do you want to go for a ride?”

They stopped before they reached the canyons, settling on a dune. Zhenya had gripped him tight around the waist the entire ride and Sid could have sworn he heard him holler over the rasp of the sand and the hum of the bike.

They sat in silence and watched the bottom curve of the nearest sun kiss the horizon, flooding the sky with a warm, sanguine red.

Zhenya had directed Sid to this place and now he knew why: a stone's throw away stood an old, gnarled tree. Its branches were bare of leaves and its back stooped with age. It was the only one of its kind Sid had seen during his time on Yoinov.

Frost blooms clung to its twisted branches like antler velvet. From where they sat in the sand the red light of the sunset got caught in the crystals and made it look like it was on fire.

“This is where the ceremony will take place tomorrow,” Zhenya explained. “It’s the oldest tree on Yoinov, and the only one still alive. All the wood we use we find dead or barter for with other planets. This place is sacred.”

Sid looked at the tree and thought about all the fires Zhenya had built for him and tried to quell the influx of conflicting emotions. Zhenya had kept Sid warm without Sid asking him to.

“I know what I said, what I’ve been saying,” Sid started. “And I don’t want to give you any false hope, but I thought it was important for you to know no matter how things go tomorrow.”

Zhenya stared out ahead and didn’t add anything, so Sid continued on, studying Zhenya’s profile. “I don’t know if I can stop it now, especially if it’s me against the Admiralty. But I’ll try, I promise I’ll try.”

He reached out and gave Zhenya’s hand a squeeze, emboldened, and Zhenya squeezed it back, tighter.

“My brother, he’s so _stupid--_ ” Zhenya spat and shook his head, looking down and away.

“Everyone thinks they’re right in the moment.” Including Sid, but then again Sid had been feeling pretty stupid recently.

“Do you have a brother?” Zhenya asked, fiddling with Sid’s fingers where they rested between them in the cooling sand.

“I can’t remember,” Sid admitted. “I can’t really remember much of anything past a year ago.”

Beside him, Zhenya made a small, sympathetic noise.

“The last mission I was on I was injured, I still can’t remember much of anything besides waking up in the medical bay afterwards, but I was one of the lucky ones. They told me most of the crew died.” Sid could feel Zhenya’s keen gaze boring into the side of his head, so he continued. “I can remember the ocean, though, just impressions of it. There was a house, I think, by the rocks and waves.”

Sid lifted his hand from Zhenya’s grasp and pressed a sequence into his wrist Pad until a holograph stuttered into existence, wavering in the air like smoke. “It’s the only memory I still have from that time,” he ended quietly.

Zhenya watched the blue waves undulate in place. Sid was too caught up in Zhenya’s face and his expression of wonder to watch them himself, and besides, it was an image he had played a hundred times before.

“I’d like to see it sometime, for real.”

“Me too,” Sid said. He told Zhenya everything he knew about the ocean and tidal effects. The relationship between the sea and the moon, how it was a lot like its own language. He kept going until Zhenya stopped him. The suns had almost disappeared entirely from the sky.

“Sid shh, just listen,” Zhenya whispered. So Sid bit his tongue and didn’t explain why the sunset turned red, but watched instead as the last bit of light disappeared from Zhenya’s eyelashes, leaving many things unsaid.

They sat in silence, and if Sid focused hard enough, he could just make out the sound of ocean birds, faint and washed out by the wind and the colliding of waves. When the air was dark and cool and the film of green light had disappeared from the horizon, Zhenya turned to him. “I have one last thing to show you.”

Again, Zhenya directed Sid where to go, leading them to an unfamiliar cave opening deep within the maze of canyons. When they dismounted, Zhenya turned to him and laid his hand over Sid’s chest, his gaze unwavering. Sid noticed his eyes glowed in the dim light.

“This is secret, _biggest_ secret, this is--” Zhenya stopped short and frowned. Sid could sense his frustration at not being able to directly translate the words he wanted.

Giving up on verbal explanation, Zhenya pulled off his satchel and crouched to rifle through it. Carefully, he untucked something bulky from within and unfolded it until Sid realized it was a pelt, like the ones Sid had seen in the throne room and the stables. It stretched as long as Zhenya was tall, longer even. He looked Sid in the eye. If he were to guess, Sid would say he looked uncertain.

“Watch, don’t speak,” Zhenya said, and Sid watched silently as Zhenya stripped off his clothes. There was no sexual intent behind it, but Sid still enjoyed watching as his skin was revealed piece by piece. Sid had never seen him naked before and it was nice just to look without expectations: his skinny chest and long pale stomach. Zhenya bent to take off his pants and stayed crouched, wrapping himself in the pelt.

What happened next was a lot like magic.

Beneath the cover of the pelt Zhenya’s form warped and distorted, growing until Zhenya’s body was twice its original size. The pelt moulded itself to the shape of him until they were one harmonious being. Sid breathed out in awe. Even if he were to speak, Sid didn’t know if he could have found the words.

The tarsier-- _Zhenya--_ blinked at him with those large, globular eyes. Sid reached out carefully and brushed his hand through the soft fur of Zhenya’s cheek. Zhenya’s pink ears twitched and Sid laughed, unable to keep his joy from bubbling up and bursting through. Joy and wonder.

Zhenya’s tail switched back and forth. They stood together for another moment, Sid watching him in fascination before Zhenya gave a shudder and the pelt fell away as he shrank. He stood, wrapped up in his pelt, watching Sid with apprehension, and Sid couldn’t understand why.

“You’re amazing,” he said, and Zhenya smiled, small and pleased.

The rest of what all this meant finally caught up with him and Sid balked. “Does that mean that all this time I’ve been riding around on one of your cousins?” Zhenya’s smile grew teeth, and Sid groaned. “That’s so inappropriate.”

“It’s not _inappropriate,_ ” Zhenya countered hotly, lifting his chin to the air. “It’s a great honour, much respect.”

“Right, sorry,” Sid said, “I know that.”

Zhenya tugged the pelt tighter around himself, crouching back down. “I shift, you get on my back. I have more to show.”

“There’s _more?_ ” Sid asked, but he did what he had been told, climbing gracelessly onto Zhenya’s back once he had shifted and gripping tightly to his fur. Once Sid was secure, Zhenya crawled deeper into the cave. It grew so dark that Sid could barely see in front of his nose, so he wasn’t expecting it when there was a sharp drop as the earth disappeared from underneath them. Sid clung harder to Zhenya’s fur, his stomach swooping as he realized they were crawling vertically downwards. He clenched his legs tight to Zhenya’s sides, if he fell off he had no idea how far he’d fall before he reached the ground.

Sid could tell when they levelled out and slid off Zhenya’s back when he stopped moving. He placed his hand on Zhenya’s soft side and let himself be guided through a narrow passage. There was a soft orange glow at the end of it and when they broke out from it, Sid could see once more.

They were in a cavern, different from all the ones Sid had seen in the Bhosik city. This one was confined by rock walls to either side but seemed to stretch out endlessly into shadows ahead of them and above them. The cavern was lit with those same floating balls of warm light; they didn’t cast far enough for Sid to see the ceiling, just thin stalactites reaching down, piercing through the darkness. Sid had never been able to fully grasp the scope and scale of the Bhosiks’ subterranean network. He always just assumed the majority of it lay beneath the huts of the city.

The stalactites must have been ancient because the air around Sid was warm and dry, devoid of moisture. He was aware of Zhenya shifting beside him, but Sid didn’t watch this time, caught up in his surroundings, the reddish colour of the sandstone cave that seemed to go on forever.

“Come on,” he heard Zhenya say, and Sid followed obediently. They stuck to the wall; it was smooth, but when Sid looked up he could make out holes interspaced and bored into the soft stone: burrows. The wall warped and curved in waves, and they followed it until they reached the deep recesses of the cavern. Zhenya stopped there, stuffing his pelt back into his bag with his clothes.

“Are they nests?” Sid asked while he watched.

“Shh, quiet,” Zhenya said. His ears twitched and swivelled, listening carefully around them, but they were insulated in silence.

Without further explanation, Zhenya turned and gripped the wall. His back muscles bunched and released as he started climbing. Sid swallowed, looking up. He steeled himself and followed when there was enough room for him, too. He was a slower climber and fumbled with the hand and footholds. At least Sid had strength on his side; still, he didn’t dare look down.

Above him, Zhenya disappeared into the wall and reached out a hand, hauling Sid into the nest after him. Sid fell back into soft warmth. Zhenya had spread his pelt out on the floor and was kneeling naked at the mouth of the burrow.

“Look,” Zhenya whispered, and Sid crawled over to kneel beside him and followed Zhenya’s line of sight. He pointed out across the cavern. They were high up enough to be level with the stalactites, and Sid squinted into the low light, trying to make out what Zhenya saw. The glimmer of something shiny caught his eye and Sid leaned forwards to try and get a better look. Zhenya placed a steadying hand to his shoulder. “Just there Sid, see?”

Between the hanging rocks clung shining metallic chrysalises. They shone that same mix of gold and silver, familiar now. Sid recognized their shape, the same as the sculptures that had sat in the throne room. It was Sid’s turn to stare in awe, knowing now that they hadn’t been sculptures at all. “Are those--”

“Yes, babies,” Zhenya murmured. Sid was looking right at the metal shells, but he still couldn’t believe it.

“Zhenya,” Sid started, turning to him, and was cut off when Zhenya pressed their mouths together.

“Babies,” he whispered again against Sid’s lips, and Sid kissed him back harder.

Zhenya pushed him back into the nest. “Take this off,” he said, tugging at the hem of Sid’s pants. Quickly, Sid rid himself of his clothes. The sensation of the fur was new against his bare skin, making him shiver. _Zhenya’s_ fur--

The burrow was small and cozy. Zhenya took a light from his bag and shook it until it lit, then let it float to the ceiling. Sid admired the curved stone walls, and blinked in surprise when he found a drawing stuck to the wall above him.

“Is that?” Sid asked, feeling long fingers curl around his ankle.

“Yes,” Zhenya murmured and inserted himself between Sid’s legs, sliding his hands up Sid’s calves. It was a thrilling reverse of the position they had been in the first time Zhenya had touched him. Sid planted his feet on the ground, letting his knees fall open, and he felt his cock twitch against his stomach as Zhenya continued to take him in. Zhenya brushed his palms down the insides of Sid’s thighs, the calluses on Zhenya’s skin catching on the hairs and making Sid shiver.

Zhenya’s hands stopped their progress when they rested on the joint of Sid’s hips. “What’s that?” Zhenya asked, brushing his thumb along the inside crease of Sid’s thigh where he was wet.

“That’s my secondary opening,” Sid explained. “My vagina,” he added when Zhenya just blinked at him.

“But...” Zhenya’s brow furrowed as he trailed off. His eyes drifted up to Sid’s dick and stared openly.

“I have both, it’s normal.”

“I don’t think so,” Zhenya said, and Sid pulled his knees in.

“What do you know about it?” Sid retorted, feeling defensive.

“Hey,” Zhenya cooed at him, crawling deeper into Sid’s space and nuzzling his face against Sid’s ear. “Let me see, I’m very curious.”

“I’m sure you are,” Sid huffed, but he lifted his knee and sighed when Zhenya caught it and spread him further, blatantly inspecting between Sid’s legs.

“You wet for me?” Zhenya murmured in wonder and kissed the inside of Sid’s knee. Sid could feel the heat spread from his face down over his chest. Zhenya did it again when Sid’s breath caught, sucking on the sensitive bit of skin at the crook of Sid’s knee, drawing the soft spot into his mouth.

Settling down deeper between Sid’s legs, Zhenya carefully lifted Sid’s balls out of the way to explore further. He stroked his fingers experimentally over the wet folds of skin. Sid could feel it when he slickened up, and with a little bit of pressure Zhenya sunk two fingers into him in one slow glide.

Sid’s back arched off the soft fur as Zhenya rocked his fingers deeply inside. With one knuckle he brought Sid’s balls up to his mouth, sucking tentatively. Gaining confidence when Sid moaned, Zhenya moved his attention to the base of Sid’s cock, mouthing wetly. Zhenya’s fingers nudged up under the skin of Sid’s sack, brushing against something that made Sid’s breath draw tight and his stomach tremble.

Zhenya pulled back. “Right here?” he asked, circling the tip of his thumb around the bundle of nerves. Sid tried to speak but his words were stolen by a keen and he clenched down reflexively around Zhenya’s fingers.

Zhenya nosed back in under Sid’s balls, finding that spot with his lips and sucking lightly on the tender skin there. Sid scrabbled for Zhenya’s hair, feeling the way his own knees quivered. “I can’t, I’ll come,” he said frantically and Zhenya only murmured: _“Good,”_ before sucking harder.

Sid tugged at his scalp. “I want to see you first, c’mon,” he gasped and finally, Zhenya sat back, taking his fingers and his mouth away.

For the first time, Sid got a good look down Zhenya’s chest, following the spread of his flush from his nipples down to his hips and in between. He admired the smooth expanse of Zhenya’s abdomen, and there, the pink, flesh tones of what lay between his legs.

“Lie down with me,” Sid asked and Zhenya did, stretching out beside him, in this soft, dark space, safe and enclosed. Sid touched his hip, just looking. Zhenya didn’t have any balls, at least not that Sid could see. He didn’t have much of anything, just a treasure trail of silky-looking mousy brown hair, running in a line from his belly down to the cleft between his legs. It looked a lot like Sid’s, positioned where his dick would be if he had one.

Sid rolled them over, bracing himself above Zhenya so he could slide a leg against him and rock. Zhenya’s hands tightened down on Sid’s shoulder until Sid could feel the press of his sharp nails digging into his skin, his grip like iron. Grinding up against his thigh, Zhenya rubbed himself on Sid the way he had in the hideaway, what felt like so long ago now. There was the puff of breath tickling Sid’s neck as Zhenya panted. Sid pressed down harder, drawing the flushed shell of Zhenya’s ear into his mouth.

Zhenya moaned and rutted desperately. There was a sticky patch growing on Sid’s skin where he pressed it to Zhenya’s slit. He felt Zhenya’s hips stutter and then there was the touch of something hard and insistent against his thigh.

Sid pulled away, looking down their bodies. Zhenya was hot and swollen between the legs, and something deep pink, almost red, nudged out of his slick folds.

“Is that your dick?” Sid asked and Zhenya shook his head against the pelt, his voice thick when he spoke.

“I don’t have one, that’s my clit,” he said, and Sid stared down, transfixed, as it slowly extended, bright and hard. It was almost as big as Sid’s cock and gently curved, erect. Sid circled his fingers around it and stroked it until it reached its peak. Zhenya felt hot and tender in Sid’s hand and he thrust up into the touch, mouth open and breathing heavily. Sid could feel how wet he was getting between his own legs, slick enough to make his ass cheeks slip together as he watched Zhenya rut into his grip. Gently, he touched where the lips of Zhenya’s slit were parted around the base of his clit. Hidden there was a tight opening, velvety soft and just loose enough to slip a finger inside.

“Did you look at that drawing of me and touch yourself?” Sid asked, thrusting his finger gently. Zhenya flexed around him and twitched, his mouth dropping open as he nodded his head against the fur. Sid’s gut twisted with a possessiveness that surprised him. “No one’s ever touched you here.”

It wasn’t really a question and Zhenya’s face turning cherry red confirmed that. Sid took pity on him, bending to press a kiss breastbone. Sid pulled his hands away just long enough to straddle him. Zhenya made a pleading noise underneath him and Sid shushed him, rubbing himself over Zhenya’s extended clit until the tip fit against him nicely.

“Do you want it?” Sid asked and Zhenya’s hands found his hips, gripping at the soft flesh of his sides.

_“Please.”_

Sid lifted himself, reaching back and pushing Zhenya into alignment so he could sink down on him in one smooth motion. Zhenya clutched at him and Sid rocked experimentally, sighing at the hot slide of him. “How does it feel?”

“What are you?” Zhenya breathed and Sid lay down against him, tucking his face into Zhenya’s chest, pleased at the affection.

Sid felt a dull throb, like pinpricks into the skin between his neck and shoulder.

“Did you just bite me?” Sid asked and Zhenya laughed quietly underneath him.

“Soft, perfect for bite,” he murmured, and slapped Sid’s ass.

“You’re such an asshole,” Sid grumbled, hiding his hot face.

Zhenya rubbed over the smarting skin, easing the sting. “I think you like,” he said.

Sid laughed, turning sharply into a gasp when Zhenya’s fingers inched inwards, rubbing over the slick skin where they were joined together. Sid _did_ like it. He ground down, rocking himself on Zhenya’s shaft and against his flat abdomen.

Zhenya’s fingers stroked over his lower back and Sid rolled his hips more insistently. It was good, _so good--_ so much so Sid was kind of happy that his memories of past experiences were vague and washed out so that this encounter, fresh and new, could lay seed in his chest and take root.

Zhenya’s hands were on him, smoothing over his skin everywhere, exploratory and greedy, cupping his ass and spreading him. Sid made a small, helpless noise, clutching at the stretch. Zhenya was curved perfectly inside him, and it felt good to clench around him and rock down in small movements.

“Let me try,” Zhenya murmured and shifted underneath him, planting his feet. He squeezed Sid’s ass again with both hands and started thrusting upwards in short bursts.

“Oh fuck,” Sid bit off, his eyes pinched shut.

_“Sid--”_ Zhenya gasped, holding him still, and began rutting into him mindlessly.

Sid slid his hands off Zhenya’s shoulders and tangled them in the fur on either side of his head, bracing himself. Zhenya wrapped his arms around Sid’s middle, feeling over the muscles in Sid’s shoulders and back. “Strong, big,” Zhenya whispered, and Sid found his mouth, kissing him.

It was so nice, making his stomach squirm and his toes curl. The heat of the room and Zhenya moving inside him, his long fingers brushing rhythmically down Sid’s spine, and Sid’s cock, nestled between their stomachs. Even the air around them felt soft as the pleasure built. Sid curled his arms around Zhenya’s head, caging him in and trading kisses. Sid felt warm to his core in a way he hadn’t for a long while.

Zhenya reached down and found the spot nestled behind Sid’s balls, touching him there. Sid went rigid and his body shuddered as Zhenya rubbled at him, feeling himself tighten up helplessly.

“Good, come,” Zhenya whispered, warm and affectionate in Sid’s ear and Sid buried his face in Zhenya’s neck and gasped, his fingers tangling in Zhenya’s hair as he came so sweet it ached.

Sid could make out the wet sound of their skin slapping together as he slowly came down. Zhenya’s hips stuttered and Sid felt the subtle swell of him as Zhenya groaned, finding his release and pushing in deep. The insides of Sid’s thighs were slick from the both of them.

Zhenya rolled them over onto their sides and wrapped them up in his pelt. Sid wanted to kiss him, so he did. Zhenya made a soft noise and cradled Sid’s face in his hands.

Sid’s heart was on fire, just like the crowning suns, new with each passing day. Nascent feelings of intimacy took root in his chest. Sid was afraid if he indulged in it he would be sick with the feeling for the rest of his life. No amount of time lying here with Zhenya would be enough.

“We can’t stay here for long,” Sid whispered, brushing back the bits of hair that curled around the shell of Zhenya's ears.

“No,” Zhenya agreed, his eyes big and imploring. “But just a little bit.”

★

For the first time in a long time, Sid dreamt. There were no sheep. He stared into the rich blackness of his room. The hum of the ship blanketed him. Experimentally, Sid reached for the sensors and touched them to his temples: he felt nothing coming from the other side. If the system dreamt with him, it only did so in total darkness. Sid dropped them back to the mattress. He didn't know what he had expected.

There was a soft rustle, barely there. “Zhenya?” he called out, but no reply came. Just the sound again, more insistent and drifting up from beneath his bed. Sid pushed away his sheets. In the darkness, he knelt beside the bed and fumbled with the drawer underneath it, tugging it hard until it gave with a lurch and he fell back against the floor.

Sid’s skin prickled at the base of his scalp. Even in the dark he could pick out the smooth shape of a pale shoulder, gleaming white like a marble statue. _A body_. Sid leaned over the open drawer, peering down. His fingers traced the shapes of its face, the same hills and valleys he had felt many times before. The same face he saw in the mirror. Soundlessly, its eyes flicked open.

Sid sat up in a cold sweat. Awake, and back in his bed again. Pushing his damp sheet away from his body, trapped in the loop of deja vu, he reached over and flicked on the bedside lamp. But all he found inside the drawer were neatly stacked rows of folded uniforms. Sid took a moment just to breathe.

There was a transmission ping from his wrist Pad that made him jump. Sid read the familiar series of numbers with a sigh of relief. _Half an hour,_ read the message. Sid grabbed a set of clothes out of the drawers.

He waited patiently in the cockpit of Zhenya’s ship for Mario’s transmission to come through, adjusting the dials restlessly until he heard the familiar crackle.

_“Take down these coordinates,”_ Mario instructed, his voice urgent. _“I need you to check something out for me. Do you have access to another ship?”_

Sid looked out the tunnel in front of him. It could barely be considered a runway. “The one I’m hailing you from should work,” he said.

_“Good, these are the coordinates to the Irluths’ old planet. Let me know what you find, I have a feeling it's not what we've all been told. Message me if you find something.”_

_"When" not "if,"_ Sid thought. "Will do," he said instead, and started switching on the power to the rest of the ship.

Yes, Sid was good with ships. That didn’t mean hurtling out of a dark, narrow tunnel trapped inside a foreign ship wasn’t terrifying. Sid’s teeth chattered and the straps holding him into his seat pulled tight across his chest, constricting his breathing. Zhenya had programmed a flight path for takeoff and Sid was glad he did because as soon as the ship shot out into daylight the floor dropped out entirely, leaving Sid hanging a hundred feet up in the air. He pushed the thrusters hard, pulling the yoke back so that the ship sped towards the sky in a sharp arch.

This had better be worth the trouble because Sid had definitely just set off a few scanners.

Once Sid had broken through Yoinov’s exosphere, he punched in the coordinates Mario had given him. Zhenya’s ship jumped into hyper speed with a lunge and a rattle that didn’t inspire any confidence. The ship was fast, though; Sid could give it that. Stars blew past him like a torrent of snow. Sid continued on through the flurry until the ship slowed, and he stopped the ship before reaching his destination, creeping up on it. He engaged Zhenya’s cloaking device and nosed around the shadow of the small moon he had hidden behind. Admittedly, being able to hide in plain sight turned out to be pretty helpful.

Sid sucked in a sharp breath. There, hovering like a void in space where the Irluths’ planet was supposed to be was a black sphere like the one that had been trailing the Irluths around, except this one was the size of an asteroid. Sid quickly started recording. Whatever it was, it wasn’t complete, but ships hovered around it, very familiar-looking ships. Sid hailed Mario.

“I’m transmitting you a recording,” he said when the line crackled to life.

Mario swore softly. “I know what that is and it isn’t good.”

“What _is_ it?” Sid asked, still feeling utterly in the dark even with all this new information.

“I can’t say for sure anymore. A while ago something that looked a lot like this was proposed as a defence system to be added to our fleet after the incident with the Creshans. It was turned down, obviously, but that made some people upset. You’re right, unfortunately, at the very least one person in the Admiralty is involved. They must be working with the Irluths, but I don’t know for what purpose.”

“I think I might have an idea of what they want,” Sid said as he tried to sort through all this new information, to piece it together with what he knew and what was still missing. “Do you think it’s Rutherford?”

There was a telling silence before Mario said, “The last mission he led was to aid in the evacuation during a natural disaster and nobody that was on the planet ended up surviving except for you.”

“Let me deal with him.”

★

Sid landed Zhenya’s ship as close as he could get to the hideaway. There was no way he’d be able to land it inside that tunnel. Sid hoped it would be hidden well enough, but at the same time, he had the feeling all that wouldn’t matter so much in a couple of hours.

Navigating his way back to his bike as fast as he could, Sid sped towards the Bhosik city. Early morning light was just breaking across the horizon when Sid parked his bike by the stables and slid through the window just like he had done the time before.

Sid landed soundlessly on his feet and crouched frozen, waiting for any opposition to come, but there was nothing. All the nests lay empty.

“I thought you might show up.”

Sid straightened and turned. Gonchar was standing in the doorway, watching him carefully. Sid couldn’t tell if he was amused or irritated, his face just had that kind of quality.

“I need to speak to Zhenya.”

“Don’t we all,” Gonchar drawled, and Sid’s hand hovered by his phaser. He thought Gonchar had been an ally, and Zhenya obviously trusted him. But right now, Sid couldn’t be sure of anyone’s intentions.

“Please,” Gonchar said. “Relax, I’ll take you to where they’re keeping him, but I can’t promise we won’t get caught.” He grumbled something else unintelligible under his breath. It probably wasn’t very flattering but Sid wasn’t in a place to turn down help.

“Just show me the way,” Sid said, resolute, and Gonchar beckoned him forwards. Gonchar took him back to that same storage room and hastened Sid on as he changed into the Bhosiks’ guard uniform.

“Here, wear this,” Gonchar said, and passed Sid a cap with a bill and goggles strapped to it. Sid laughed quietly, reminded of the day he landed, and pulled it diligently over his head.

“How do I look?”

“Like Prince Charming,” Gonchar said drily, and guided Sid out of the barracks.

The thing with sleuthing was, the best way to do it was to pretend you were meant to be there in the first place. Gonchar strode assertively through the tunnels and Sid followed his lead. Around them the carvings on the walls slowly appeared, growing more ornate with every step, and Sid’s heartbeat grew with them.

Gonchar froze and motioned for Sid to stay behind him. Just around the corner were two doors, grand like the ones that led to the throne room, but on a smaller scale. Just outside them, a guard was stationed. Sid took in the colour of his hair, like stalks of straw. Sid couldn’t place him from this angle.

“Wait for my signal,” Gonchar whispered, and straightened his back, rounding the corner without further instruction.

Sid watched as he walked with authority over to the guard. There was an interchange and by the body language, Sid got the feeling the two didn’t like each other very much. They continued talking as Sid’s apprehension grew. What was the signal supposed to be, had he missed it? Was Sid supposed to stun the guy from behind? Just when he was about to make the decision for himself, Gonchar moved like he was going to step around him and back to Sid before lifting the butt of his rifle swiftly and thumping the guard on the back of the head. The man slumped to the side and Gonchar had the decency to at least try and soften his fall, though it looked half-hearted. Sid guessed that was as good a signal as any and came out from hiding.

He stepped up beside Gonchar and they looked down at Fedorov’s slack face together. “I can’t believe you knocked him out.”

“Don’t worry, he’s got a thick skull.”

Sid snorted. “That’s not very good for international diplomacy.”

“You’re not the one who hit him,” Gonchar said with a smirk. “C’mon, lift his feet.”

“As long as you’re the one to tell him that,” Sid muttered, and with a heave they pushed backwards through the doors, dragging Fedorov with them. He was a heavy bastard.

The light in the room was dim, and its walls were low and sloped and painted white. At the center of the room was a shallow, round pool dug into the earth, and the reflection of the water bounced off the walls and ceiling, lit by a small skylight at its peak. A shrouded figure sat beside the water, and stood when they burst into the room.

With the tinkle of coins rubbing together the figure removed its headdress revealing Zhenya’s face.

He grinned at Sid and Sid was helpless to do anything but smile back. Zhenya closed the space between them and kissed him soundly. Sid was a little bit embarrassed when they pulled away and remembered Gonchar was still there, Fedorov lying boneless at his feet.

“I don’t get a kiss?” Gonchar said, and Zhenya laughed.

“I’m happy to see you too.”

“As always, I’m impressed with your knack for insubordination,” Gonchar said and Zhenya preened like it was the highest compliment he could be given.

Gonchar sighed, resigned, when Zhenya pulled off his tunic to reveal a guard uniform underneath. They dragged Federov over to where Zhenya had been sitting. It took them a minute to figure out how to prop him up and then Zhenya was tugging his tunic and veil down over his head. Carefully, he unfastened Sid’s string of beads from where he had tied them to his veils, tucking them safely into his jacket before pulling his satchel over his shoulders.

They stood, looking down at their handiwork. “How do you like wearing a dress,” Zhenya sneered down at Fedorov’s slumped body, and Sid snickered.

Gonchar led them back to the stables through a different series of tunnels. Sid figured they wouldn’t have much time before someone noticed what was going on.

Sid and Zhenya climbed back out through the window, and Sid crouched and stuck his head back through it when Gonchar didn’t follow. “You’re not coming with us?”

Gonchar shook his head. “I’m going to go stand outside Zhenya’s quarters. Maybe I can buy you some time. But I don’t think it’s going to matter much if the Irluths try and take the planet by force.”

Sid nodded, feeling a chill run down his spine. “I’m going to evacuate the ship, be ready.”

The halls of the Albatross were thankfully still quiet this early in the morning. Sid and Zhenya made their way to a control panel, opening up a line to the navigation deck. The officer on duty overnight would just be ending his shift.

Sid pressed the direct line to the deck: “Ensign, you can leave the deck, I’m going to take over the shift.”

There was a pause and a rushed, _“Okay Captain.”_ The deck was empty when they arrived, and Sid made his way straight to the comm system, putting in the code for level five evacuation. Throughout the ship, sirens blared.

Sid cleared his throat. “This is your captain speaking. I’m calling for a complete evacuation of the Albatross. We’ve detected what may be a gas leak, and for safety, all personnel must stop what they’re doing and make their way off the ship and towards the city.”

Sid pulled away and took a breath. He didn’t like lying to his crew. Zhenya was watching him intently. "What now?"

"I guess we go ask your brother not to kick us off the planet." Zhenya laughed beside him and Sid shut off the comms, already thinking about what their next move was going to be. How to convince Zhenya’s family that they had to be on guard for what might happen next.

“What’s going on?”

Sid turned around. Standing at the doors was Kris, looking wide-eyed. “You’re supposed to be getting _off_ the ship,” Sid said.

“Not before I know what’s going on.”

“It’s not safe for the crew to be on board.” Sid explained. “As of right now, the treaty is unofficially broken. Rutherford and the Irluths are conspiring, for wealth, power, I don’t know. But we think there’s a spy on the ship.”

“What if they attack?”

“The ship can be operated by one man, and if it comes to it, that will be me.” He said it with a finality.

Kris crossed his arms. “And who are _we_."

“Mario is the only other person who knows, and Zhenya, or I guess Evgeni?” Sid turned to Zhenya who had been silent, watching. “What do you want to be called? I’m sorry I didn’t ask before--”

“That’s the _prince!”_ Kris exclaimed. “Sid...”

“Zhenya is fine,” Zhenya cut in.

Sid smiled at him before turning back to Kris. “I know, but he needed my help.”

Kris laughed at that. “Really, jumping at a chance to be of service? Can’t say I’m surprised.” Sid stared at him flatly and Kris’s face turned serious. “When they realize the prince is gone they’re going to start arresting us.”

“Trust me, the crew safer there then trapped in here,” Sid explained. “Someone on the ship's been communicating with Rutherford, and until we figure out who, we can’t trust anyone.”

Just like Gonchar had warned, the Bhosiks’ guard was waiting for them when they got back to the city. Denis and Fedorov were standing by the entrance backed by men and women. Most were on foot, a few were on tarsiers. Shifted guards, probably. Brian was among them, his Pad clutched tight in his hand, but the rest of their crewmates and Gonchar were not in sight.

“ _What were you thinking--_ ” Fedorov barked when Sid got close enough. He advanced on Sid, his face cold with fury and he was sporting a brilliant red bruise that would soon turn black. Sid straightened his back, ready for it.

Before Fedorov could do anything, Zhenya stepped between them and _hissed--_ stopping him in his tracks.

“He help because I ask. Because you do nothing,” Zhenya spat. “You don’t touch him.”

Fedorov’s eyes darted suspiciously between the two of them. Sid felt his face heat, equal parts pleased and embarrassed at the display. Mostly Sid felt proud.

Sid stepped forwards. “I know it’s hard, now more than ever. But you have to trust me, something is very wrong here. This is about more than just a marriage now.”

“How are we supposed to trust you when you give us nothing, only words,” Fedorov said.

“I’m sure one of your scanners must have picked up an errant flight path this morning leaving your planet. I was on that ship. I took it to the coordinates where the Irluths claimed their dead planet rests and what lives there isn’t a planet at all. There is a weapon being built, a larger version of the orb that follows the Irluths around.”

Denis’s voice broke through. “If this is true, we’re going to need more reinforcements than just us.”

“They might agree to leave once they realize Rutherford has been arrested,” Kris said.

“We don’t know if he is yet.” Sid said.

“Rutherford is an Alliance Admiral, isn’t he? He was the one we were in contact with to set this negotiation up,” Denis said, He looked angry and confused, and Sid couldn’t blame him.

“We think the design for the orb came from Rutherford,” Sid said. “It was a rejected defence weapon after the last war the Alliance was involved with. The same war were those ships, the one the Irluths use, were confiscated from the Creshans.”

“So are the Irluths just his mercenaries?” Fedorov asked.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry--”

There were no less than four voices that spoke up then, clashing together and cutting him off, each with a different opinion on how they should proceed. Sid rubbed at his temple.

Quietly beside him, Brian spoke up, offering up his Pad. “Sid? I think it’s for you.” There was an incoming message on the screen. Sid thanked him and patched it through, unaware of how the room around him fell silent.

Mario’s face appeared. Sid could tell he was seated at the bridge of his ship. “We have Rutherford,” he said, and Sid felt Zhenya breathe out a sigh of relief beside him. “I’m giving you permission to go ahead and take the Irluths and their ship into custody, and hopefully, we can contain this.”

“The last mission I was on?” Sid asked. It wasn’t really a question; he already knew.

“I’m sorry, Sid,” Mario said gravely. “This version of the device is a prototype. Rutherford’s been using it to create natural disaster-like events so that he could reap planet’s resources. He’s been using what he collected to build a larger version, which you saw. Your last mission was his first attempt.”

Sid gritted his teeth. “It’s not your fault. Thanks for updating us. I'll take care of things down here.”

“I’ll bring the Mariner and her crew to aid you but be careful, we still don’t know much about them. Rutherford didn’t put up much of a fight, which unsettles me.”

With thanks, Sid signed off. He turned to the room. All eyes were trained on him. Sid lifted his chin. “Rutherford and the Irluths must think the metal ore you use to trade is in the earth. They’re going to try and dig it up.”

There was a series of horrified gasps from the Bhosiks and beside him Kris’s voice, confused. “It’s not in the earth?”

Sid shared a look with Zhenya. “It is but not in the way you think.” He raised his voice. “We can take a party of five up to the Irluths’ ship. Who’s coming with us?”

Their group of five made their way towards the dark shape of the craft looming on the horizon. Zhenya held on tightly around Sid’s waist. Brian let Fedorov have his bike and rode behind Kris on his.

“You want to know something?” Zhenya whispered into his ear, just over the sound of the bike’s engine.

“Yeah?” The graze of Zhenya’s lips on the shell of his ear made Sid shiver.

“Before all this, I was probably going to be married off to him.”

_“Him”_ could only be one person. Sid looked over in the direction of where Fedorov rode beside them, and Zhenya laughed softly in his ear.

They waited in the shadow cast by the Irluth’s craft as Brian worked to scramble their controls. “That’s weird,” he muttered, and Sid came closer to look at the readings on his Pad.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, they didn’t put up any resistance. I could lower the hatch with a press of a button.”

“I could be a trap,” Fedorov spoke up behind them.

“It could be, but we don’t really have any other choice.” Sid looked around at the faces of his companions for any hesitation, but there was none. “Open it,” he told Brian.

The lift up to the ship was just as cramped as the first time. They were packed in cheek to jowl, Sid wedged between Zhenya and Fedorov. Sid watched Fedorov from the corner of his eye and stood a little straighter. He wasn’t so tall. When Sid looked back at Zhenya he was already smirking down at him.

Sid was about to tell him to shut up when the lift rattled to a halt. There was an eerie stillness inside the craft. The cloying scent was gone from the air. Sid pulled out his phaser. “Keep your eyes peeled.”

They made their way slowly and deliberately down the hall. It was so silent Sid could hear everyone breathing around him. When they reached the central chamber, it was even darker than before. Sid could barely make out the air in front of him, and couldn’t see where the bodies were floating.

Sid could hear the shuffling of his team behind him, slowly moving outwards through the room.

His shoulder brushed against something and he yelped.

“Sid!” Zhenya's voice from behind him, panicked.

“I’m okay, can we figure out how to get some light in here?”

“Give me a minute,” Brian said. Everyone stood frozen until the lights flickered.

The bodies hung in the air, all five of them. Sid approached one cautiously. When nothing happened, he touched its arm, and it swayed like dead weight with no resistance, drooping as if all of its strings had been cut.

“What the fuck,” Kris said.

There was some arguing behind him, but Sid wasn’t paying attention, too busy studying the body’s face close up for the first time. The three eyes staring back at him looked empty.

Someone stepped up beside him. “Do you think they’re dead?” Zhenya asked in a low tone.

“I don’t know,” Sid said, circling it. He pushed some of the limp arms out of the way. The skin hidden away beneath was thin and papery, and a long seam traveled the length of its spine, held together with clear stitching. Sid pulled his knife from his belt, popping one stitch, then another, continuing on until he could pull the skin aside.

“It’s a robot,” Sid breathed, taking in the black mechanisms and hinges and the white synthesized ligaments. Zhenya walked around and looked over his shoulder, gasping quietly when he saw what was under the skin.

“Does that mean Rutherford was controlling them too?” Zhenya asked.

“I don’t know, it would seem that way,” Sid said, quickly trying to find an empty spot to slot in this new puzzle piece. Rutherford wasn’t stupid, and it was odd to think he didn’t have some sort of back-up plan in case he got caught.

“That’s it then, we win?” Zhenya said, his voice hopeful.

Sid hesitated, staring into the machinery that made up the Irluth. It was a rudimentary version, a few years old now and cheaply put together, but still, it felt eerily familiar to Sid. He thought back to the white body he had seen in his dream. This couldn’t be it. He was sure now something still wasn’t right.

Another face appeared from around the Irluth’s hanging body. For the first time since Sid had met him, Fedorov actually looked scared. “Crosby, their orb’s gone.”

Sid followed him, slowing to a stop at the center of the room. Fedorov was right. Where the black sphere had sat in the floor before was now just an empty pit. Looking down into its emptiness filled Sid with a sense of dread. “That’s not good,” he muttered. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, all around them the ship shook as if it was rocked by the shockwave of an explosion. Sid just got his balance back when the ship was hit again with another wave of energy.

“Find a window,” Sid ordered, and their team split up, rummaging around the room searching desperately for some kind of porthole.

“Over here!” Fedorov called from a dingy corner and Sid made his way over to him, through all the wires and forgotten machinery that littered the edge of the room. Sid rubbed the grime away from the windowpane; outside, the ground was splitting open. A deep crevice slowly appeared in the earth, stretching out towards the city, sand pouring into it like water draining from a tub.

“I didn’t really believe you,” Fedorov muttered, all the blood had run from his face.

“We have to get the people out,” Sid said, panic balling up in his chest.

“The tunnels are reinforced,” Fedorov explained. “But we still need to get everyone out of the city and into the nests so that they can be protected.” He turned to Sid and looked him in the eye. “I’ll go and explain what we found, help them evacuate the city. You can deal with the orb?”

Sid nodded. It was the only plan they had. He hesitated for a moment before looking Fedorov dead in the eye. “Take Zhenya with you to the nests.”

Fedorov regarded him for what felt like a long moment before nodding, filling Sid with a sense of relief. He almost felt bad that Gonchar had hit him. _Almost._

“Time to leave,” Sid called to the room. They ran back down the hall to the lift as fast as they could without losing their balance. The craft shook around them like a boat in a storm as it lowered them to the ground.

Kris was bracing himself against the wall again; they all were, this time, out of breath and nauseated. “If Mario’s got Rutherford in custody and the Irluths are out of commission, then who’s controlling it?”

“I don’t know,” Sid said, frustrated. Every time one question was answered, three new ones appeared. Whatever the answer to this was, it wasn’t good.

When they got to the bikes, Zhenya moved to follow Sid and Sid stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. “I need to go back to the ship.”

“Okay, we go,” Zhenya said, a stubborn set to his jaw.

Sid shook his head. “You’re going with Fedorov.”

“No--” Zhenya bit out just before they were all rocked, stumbling as the earth quaked underneath them. Sid grabbed him, keeping them steady until the tremors stopped.

“Crosby, we need to go now!” Fedorov called from his bike.

Sid tightened his grip on Zhenya, making sure he was paying attention. “Go with him, the ship is my responsibility, yours is to take care of your people.”

Zhenya still looked like he hated the idea, but he batted Sid’s hands away, pulling his satchel off and handing it to Sid. Sid lifted the flap: it was stuffed full of his folded up pelt. “I can’t take this.”

“Yes you can, I give. Take it now, go--” He shoved Sid’s chest. “Leave.”

Sid swung the satchel over his shoulders and mounted his bike. “I’ll be back, I promise. Go make sure Gonchar is okay.”

Zhenya nodded solemnly and Sid pushed off, driving in the opposite direction from the rest of the group. Beneath the bike, the sand trembled and bubbled like liquid. Hot winds rose, kicking up sand and drying out his eyes and mouth. The heat created a mirage across the horizon, turning the air into squirming waves. Sid slowed the bike. In the distance, by the ship, a shape wavered. When Sid got close enough he hopped off, taking a hesitant step forward.

It was a figure, pale and gleaming in the sun, as ghostly pale as the Albatross herself. Sid stood stock still and watched as it approached. The body was familiar, sturdy and broad, and more fully realized than Sid had ever seen it before. When it got close enough for Sid to just barely make out its features, a wave rolled across its body and its skin took colour.

Above them, the orb hung at its zenith. Sid saw now the pulsing ring of orange light that spun around it. Just like an eclipse. Around them the earth quaked violently. The figure was standing across from him now, just a few paces away. Sid shifted and it shifted with him, a mirror image of himself.

“You,” Sid said, trying to keep his calm and failing.

Rime smirked. “Captain.”

The ground gave another shudder beneath them and Sid dropped the satchel and broke out into a run. He sprinted towards Rime. The A.I. braced itself and Sid hit it full-on, knocking the wind from his chest and tackling it into the ground. For a second, Sid had the advantage He could feel the strength of its body under the synthetic skin, like corded steel, more advanced than any A.I. Sid had come across yet.

“Why would you put yourself in a body if it just makes you vulnerable,” Sid croaked in its face, pressing his forearm harder into its neck. It made a grab for Sid’s jacket, trying to push him away.

There was a tremor that rocked the ground all around them. Sid felt the shockwave travel through his body. Sid braced himself, trying not to lose his leverage in the process. An ominous buzz filled the air, coming from the canyons.

Sid looked toward the sound, apprehension rising. A dark cloud filled the air, approaching fast. There was a sharp pain in his stomach when Rime took his distraction as an opportunity to knee him and take control, twisting out from underneath him, pinning Sid in the sand. When he opened his eyes again, he was looking up at his own face bent over him and grinning. There were hands wrapped around his neck, squeezing. Sid scrabbled at his sides, trying to find purchase. The buzzing in his ears grew louder.

“Do I _seem_ vulnerable to you?” Rime spat, and Sid struggled to reply.

Rime’s grip loosed just enough for Sid to choke out, “No one is left on your side.”

Rime’s eyes gleamed. “I have more than you know. I have answers.“

Sid’s heartbeat thudded rapidly in his chest. _Like wings_ , he thought as slowly his vision went red and fuzzy. Suddenly, the encroaching shadow swallowed the sun.

Rime’s grip loosened again as it looked up at the yalakhs that swarmed over them, disturbed by the tremors. Sid tried to muster up all his remaining strength, ready to take this advantage and use it. He pulled at Rime’s thumb, wrenching it back. Rime didn’t falter or cry out in pain. Its attention snapped back to Sid, leaning all its weight down on his neck and watching Sid’s face closely, the massive locusts in the sky forgotten.

Sid struggled to breathe, the edges of his vision fizzing black. _This is it,_ he thought, closing his eyes, the neon geometry dancing across the back of his eyelids like a kaleidoscope; whirling like a flurry of stars. Sid grasped for the memories he did have and held them close. He could feel the presence of something foreign flutter in the back of his mind. Suddenly a shadow swooped down closer than ever before and dark enough to cut out the dizzying colours. Between one blink and the next the weight over Sid was torn away and lifted up to the sky.

Sid watched with a mixture of relief and horror as Rime was carried through the air by a yalakh before another one swooped in to try and grasp it. They fought over the body in mid air until one made to dart away and the android was torn in two.

_“No fucking way,”_ Sid rasped, coughing. He rolled onto his stomach, trying to catch his breath. Around him, the planet continued to fall into destruction. Sid pushed up onto his hands and knees and looked at the ship, the orb hovering above it continuing to throb like a black heart in the sky. Sid thought about Rime’s words and felt blown over by a sudden panic. Maybe it had been lying; maybe everything Sid had been yearning to know was gone.

Whatever the answer was, Sid wouldn’t be able to find it now. Grabbing Zhenya’s satchel from where it had been thrown, Sid steeled himself and began to run towards the Albatross, ducking as yalakhs buzzed overhead. Every once in a while something would graze him, knocking Sid to his hands and knees, but he pushed onward.

_“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,”_ Sid swore as he ran, slipping in the sand. He dove and slid underneath the ship, crawling on his stomach through the sand until he found the manual hatch the engineers used and pulled the lever. Squeezing through the narrow channel, he locked the hatch behind him and opened the secondary hatch, squeezing through that one too. Taking the ladder rungs two at a time, the chute finally spat him out in the engine room.

Sid ran upstairs through the ship to the navigation deck. The Albatross’s halls were dark, leaving only the emergency lights to illuminate his path. As he stepped onto the deck, that same eerie stillness was waiting for him on the other side of the automatic doors. First, Sid went to his captain’s chair, but none of the panels would light up and the knobs were unresponsive. Next he tried to engage the ship's power through the pilot's console, but still he got nothing.

The ground beneath the ship gave another ominous shake and Sid’s stomach lurched up into his throat. Outside, Sid could see the crack in the earth slowly encroaching on the Bhosik city.

Whatever was controlling the orb was inside this ship. He was sure of it.

Sid took a deep, settling breath and thought about his options. He gripped the strap of Zhenya’s satchel and carefully pulled back the flap to examine the fur of the pelt. Even in the dark, the metallic sheen to the hair was visible. He thought about Zhenya’s insistence that Sid take it with him. Resolute in his decision, he turned from the deck and the image of the crumbling earth and ran out the door towards the medical bay.

Punching in his access code, Sid stepped into the reorientation chamber. The doors opened without hesitation. Inside, the room was as dark and lifeless as the rest of the ship. Sitting in the chair at the center of the room, Sid pressed the sensor pads to his temples. If this was where Rime wanted him, this was where Sid would be. Clearing his mind and focusing on his connection with the ship, Sid reached out, stretching like tendrils into darkness, straining to brush against anything at all. With great effort, Sid touched the ship’s consciousness, but it was faint, their connection weaker than Sid had ever felt it before. He pushed deeper, burrowing as far as he could go, shifting through important information until he found the core, soft and unprotected. Sid reached out to touch it. He could feel it pulse with the promise of information once lost.

From the darkness, something lashed out, like a wounded animal's final strike, defensive and vicious. Sid grabbed onto it, not allowing it to recede back into the shadows and wait to strike again. They fought like they had fought so many times before; like he had grappled with Rime in the sand. He turned his attention inward, digging into the earth of his mind until he found the intruding presence and tore out the roots. There was the echo of the three-note chime, dim in his head and all around him.

Sid felt the ship rumble to life, the hum of the engine drifting up through the bulkhead. Searching for the controls, Sid clutched them and felt the lurch as the Albatross rose off the ground. Sid’s heart thudded an unsteady rhythm in his chest. Just because he knew what he had to do didn’t mean it wasn’t terrifying. He pushed the ship hard, steering it out away from the city and the canyons as far and as fast and it would go. A faint image of the landscape projected in his head. Sid gripped the armrests tight, searching deeper within the ship for that one final wall only the Captain could bypass.

Weakly, Sid felt a familiar caress against his mind; heard his own voice like a whisper in his ear, trying to sway him.

_“If you kill me, you kill your memories,”_ it said, and a frisson ran down his spine as Sid was hit with a wave of cold revelation.

Sid gritted his teeth and pushed on, driving the ship faster and shifting through all the ship’s operations till he found the one he was looking for and grasped it with his mind. The lights switched from white to red and Rime’s voice broke out over the speakers, informing him and the nonexistent crew to evacuate and that the ship would self-destruct, and then the countdown started. Sid felt the other consciousness dissolve entirely and Sid ripped the pads from his temples.

Sid found the row of cryogenic beds in the medical bay. Over the speakers, the countdown continued steadily. He pulled the pelt from Zhenya’s satchel, then crawled inside one of the beds and closed it up. Sid wrapped the pelt around him, strapping himself in over it and finally pulling the fur over his head. He breathed and waited. The air under the pelt was soft and dark. Soon it grew stuffy and hard to breathe but he didn't dare uncover any of his skin. Sid squeezed his eyes shut tight as the voice said _“Five--”_ He thought about Zhenya and Mario and his crew and hoped his instincts weren’t wrong. That destroying the ship would stop the attack.

_“Three--”_

_“Two--”_

_“One--”_

★

Sid woke on a bed of dark, hard rocks. The sky above him was filled with smoke. Sid sat up. He didn't feel any pain. The landscape around him was reminiscent of the one he had seen in the reorientation chamber, but the smoke was so thick everything was rendered blurred and sooty.

To his left a white rectangle was cut out of the air, like a doorway. The rock was hard to traverse. His boots left footprints in the soot and Sid was sure he must be covered in it from head to toe. When he reached the doorway, Sid walked through it without hesitation.

One the other side was a flat, white plain stretching out as far as the eye could see. Sid bent and touched the earth; it wasn’t snow or sand but ash dusting the plain. Ahead of him was a dark shape, flat against the earth. When he got closer, he realized it was a natural pool.

Sid walked over to the shallow water. He stood beside the figure waiting there. Maybe it had been waiting for Sid, maybe it was just waiting. It was Sid, a carbon copy.

“I can’t give you your memories back, they were destroyed with the ship,” Rime said without looking up.

“I know.”

Sid looked up. The sky was a greyish blue and against the horizon a strip of white light reached up towards the sky and disappeared into the thin clouds.

Sid sat down on the rocky bank. “What’s this place?”

Rime shrugged. “Purgatory, maybe. If androids don’t dream, I doubt they go to heaven.”

Sid had dreamt, that one time. But he kept that for himself. He didn't know if it had really been a dream, or more an impression of Rime's consciousness pressed against his. His old memories trying to tell him something.

“No, it’s too peaceful,” Sid decided. He looked down into the water but saw no reflection. “Maybe all my memories live here, somewhere. Maybe you’re just one of them.”

“Could be. It’s a dangerous thought.”

Sid stared into the reflectionless pool. There were no answers here worth having. “I’m going to go back,” he decided.

“That’s probably for the best,” Rime agreed.

Sid stood, dusting the ash from his pants. “Good luck,” he said, and Rime waved him off. Sid left without a backwards glance.

★

When Sid opened his eyes the second time, it was to another sky full of smoke. This time around, his entire body ached. Sid’s eyes stung with the smoke and he blinked back tears. He felt around him, curling his fingers into the hot sand and the soft fur of Zhenya’s pelt.

There was a distant noise, calling his name, but Sid could barely make it out above the thick buzzing in his ears. There were hands on him, touching him carefully. Zhenya’s face appeared above Sid’s, his eyes wide and fearful.

“Hey,” Sid croaked.

“Sid--” Zhenya cut himself off, his eyes trailing from Sid’s face down and to the side. Sid flexed his arm.

“What is it?” he asked as Zhenya continued to watch him. Sid went to lift his arm and Zhenya touched his chest.

“Don’t move--” Zhenya insisted but it was too late.

Most of Sid’s skin was miraculously unmarred, the exception being the long oval burn mark that stretched along his forearm. Sid knew now why Zhenya told him not to look, and it wasn’t the wound. Around the edges where you’d expect to see the deep red of blood clotting, a milky residue collected instead. There was no pink muscle or tissue to be seen underneath where Sid’s skin had been burned away, just their imitation all in white.

Sid looked up at the sky. Above them, the grand shape of the Mariner drifted down through the clouds of dust and smoke. Sid closed his eyes and let everything fade to black.

★

Sid's eyes adjusted slowly to the white, blinding light coming from the window. He was lying in a bed in the Mariner’s medical bay. Zhenya’s face took up his entire vision.

“Zhenya?” Sid coughed, trying to clear his throat, and Zhenya helped him take a sip of water. “You okay?” he asked and tried to sit up but everything hurt. Zhenya pressed him back down to the bed gently.

“ _Me?_ Sid--” Zhenya shook his head and pressed his lips to the back of Sid’s hand, his breath sailing over Sid’s skin. Their fingers were clenched so tight the skin around Sid’s knuckles was white and a little numb, but Sid didn’t make him let go.

Beside the bed, someone cleared their throat. It was a medical officer, dressed in standard white with a badge that read “ _Murray”_ pinned to his uniform.

Murray adjusted the bed so Sid could sit up comfortably and inspected Sid’s arm gently. “We had to replace your synthetic skin because of the burn. It will turn flesh coloured again once you’ve fully healed.”

Sid nodded and swallowed. Even looking at his arm now, he could barely wrap his head around it.

“There’s a few people that want to see you, if that's all right,” Murray added, breaking his attention away from his stark white forearm.

Sid nodded and Murray left the room, letting in Mario and Kris as he left. Zhenya held Sid’s hand tight.

Mario stood by the end of the bed and watched silently as Kris slunk up. He looked guilty and Sid wanted to reassure him, no matter what it was.

"I'm sorry, I knew something was off,” Kris started. He had been looking down at Sid’s arm but quickly tore his eyes away to look Sid in the face like he’d realized what he’d been doing. “Rutherford must have fucked with my head too, because the orb--I couldn't remember what it did, or _anything useful_ \--"

He shook his head and Sid smiled at him even though his skin felt tight and bruised. “It’s not your fault, I didn’t remember either.” That reminded him of something. Sid turned to Zhenya. “How are your parents and Gonchar, did they get everyone out of the tunnels?”

Zhenya squeezed his hand again. “Gonchar was here earlier, he said everyone is okay. We got them out fast enough.”

Sid let out a sigh of relief, feeling himself fully relax for the first time in maybe a year. Everyone was safe. All of a sudden his exhaustion caught up to him in a rush. He heard Zhenya say something softly but Sid was already halfway to sleep.

★

Later, when he was feeling stronger, Sid went to go meet with Mario, alone. Sid found him standing in the observation deck, a black shape cut out against the stars. Sid took a moment to watch the straight line of his back.

He stood beside Mario, silently wondering which star cluster he was looking at before he spoke. “You lied to me, for years.”

Mario sighed deeply beside him. “I know, I’m not proud of it. I should have told you, I wanted to, but--”

Sid nodded in understanding and hung his head. “So that photo I have, that’s not really my family, is it?”

“No, It’s a composite,” Mario explained gently. “When the Alliance started the A.I. program, Rutherford didn’t want any of the androids to be aware of themselves. It was supposed to be for easier integration into the academy but I guess now we know the real reason. I wasn’t an Admiral then, I didn't have any authority. I still don’t have that much now. We’ll see who they pick for the new Fleet Admiral.”

“It will be you for sure,” Sid said.

“That’s nice of you to say.” Mario laughed softly. “But I don’t know if I deserve it after this mess.”

He turned away from the window and looked at Sid for a long, assessing moment. “I can’t right what’s wrong. But, if you want it, I do have this--” Carefully, Mario pulled something from inside his breast pocket. “I had to keep this very safe, you see,” he said and handed the small white square to Sid.

The glossy paper was worn between his fingertips. It was a photo of Sid, the same as he looked now, maybe the same as he’d always looked; and Mario, a woman, and three children all huddled close together. They were standing on a cliff, smiling. In the background there were sapphire waves. Sid could almost taste the ocean.

“And this is real?” Sid asked, blinking hard.

“Yes,” Mario said. “I’m sorry that he took those memories from you. You stayed with me and my family often during your time at the academy. You never really questioned it because well, you know why.”

“I hope it’s okay to say, but sometimes, it feels like he stole them from me too.” Mario added quietly.

Sid nodded. “It’s okay,” he rasped, rubbing at his eyes. Mario had the decency to pretend like he didn’t see.

“I’m so angry at him,” Sid admitted.

Mario squeezed his shoulder. “Good, you should be. There will be a trial, I don’t know how long it will drag on for. You could stay for that if you wanted, but I have another proposition for you, if you’d be open to it?”

“Tell me.”

★

Zhenya was sitting in Sid’s room in the medical bay. Mario had come with Sid but he only stayed long enough to shake both their hands.

“We'll always welcome you back,” he said to Sid before turning to Zhenya. “And you if you're interested.” He shot Sid a wink before leaving the room.

Zhenya turned to Sid, confusion clear across his face. “What does he mean?”

“If you want a spot at the academy, Mario will help you get the material you need to study for the entrance exam.” Zhenya's face lit up and Sid returned his smile before continuing. “But I’m going to be leaving for a bit,” he explained.

This next part was what had Sid’s stomach twisting with hope and nerves. “I’m going to take a break and explore some of the Alliance planets. You can come with me, if you want. The academy will still be there when we get back. I just wanted you to know that the option’s open.”

Zhenya had his bottom lip sucked into his mouth, watching Sid with large eyes. His fingers twitched at his sides. Sid couldn’t read his expression.

“I don’t know,” Zhenya said finally, trailing off and looking down.

“Oh, okay,” Sid said, trying not to let his voice betray his disappointment. His chest ached the same way it had when he had been struggling to breathe, pinned under Rime. He looked down at his socked feet. “That’s completely understandable.”

“Think it might be _inappropriate,_ ” Zhenya said, and Sid’s head shot up.

Zhenya was grinning at Sid and Sid stared at Zhenya for a moment before choking out a laugh. “You’re a dick,” Sid said and collapsed beside him onto the seat.

“Come here,” Zhenya said, and Sid pulled him into his side. Sid pressed his lips to the soft hair at Zhenya’s temple and enjoyed the moment in peace. He could make new memories.

He felt Zhenya shift against him as he pulled something out of his pocket. He held it out and Sid saw he was holding the small paper bird. "You kept it?" Sid said, in wonder.

"Murray said it's called a crane. They live all over the earth except for the poles, like to explore, visit places," Zhenya explained.

Sid reached out and smoothed its crumpled wing. "Do you want to go see the ocean?"

★

Buffeted by the wet salt spray and the wind, Sid tilted his face up against the warm sun, letting it soak into his skin. Feeling the grass under his palms, Sid carded his fingers through it. Zhenya sat beside him on the grassy rock face, pelt draped over both their shoulders. In the distance there was a house looking out over the water. Sid took a deep breath in, clearing his lungs. If he focused, he could taste the ocean on the back of his tongue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _A Sunset Bloom_
> 
> _Then we sat on the sand for some time and observed_
> 
> _How the oceans that cover the world were perturbed_
> 
> _By the tides from the orbiting moon overhead_
> 
> _"How relaxing the sound of the waves is," you said._
> 
> _I began to expound upon tidal effects_
> 
> _When you asked me to stop, looking somewhat perplexed_
> 
> _So I did not explain why the sunset turns red_
> 
> _And we watched the occurrence in silence instead._
> 
> __\- A poem written by Data in 2369 from the TNG episode “Schisms”__


	2. Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't able to do art like I usually do this year, but I had some fun scanning and colouring these drawings in addition to the fic. Hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> _A Sunset Bloom_
> 
> _Then we sat on the sand for some time and observed_
> 
> _How the oceans that cover the world were perturbed_
> 
> _By the tides from the orbiting moon overhead_
> 
> _"How relaxing the sound of the waves is," you said._
> 
> _I began to expound upon tidal effects_
> 
> _When you asked me to stop, looking somewhat perplexed_
> 
> _So I did not explain why the sunset turns red_
> 
> _And we watched the occurrence in silence instead._
> 
> __\- A poem written by Data in 2369 from the TNG episode “Schisms”__


End file.
